


Stay Awake

by joshie124



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Body Horror, Dreams vs. Reality, Drunk Josh, Drunk Tyler, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gore, Hair Dyeing, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mentions of Suicide, Mild Gore, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Repressed Memories, Road Trips, Tattoos, Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 97,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9623273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshie124/pseuds/joshie124
Summary: The world is a nuclear wasteland, filled with malicious raiders, barely-human creatures, and the occasional establishment of society. Josh has been living in it for years. He's learned the rules, learned how to be safe, how to stay alive. And he's lonely as hell.Enter Tyler, who not only can't remember his past, but also can't remember his actions, his "yesterday"s, his own name unless he writes it down and reminds himself of it daily. This doesn't seem to be much of an issue; all it takes is a bit of record keeping and organization. But Tyler seems to have a lot more to his past than he's written down, and when things get chaotic, Josh has to try to separate the friend he knows from the person that was forgotten, has to try to forgive. That's what friends do, right?





	1. Rules

Josh had planned out every day of his life long in advance for years now. He’d learned the most effective ways to spend his time, when to venture outside of the run-down building he called home and when to play it safe. He’d made himself a force to be reckoned with. Not once in the past four years had he been a victim of raiders, or gotten lost in the wasteland dust storms, or been (too terribly) injured by the creatures that roamed the streets. He’d encountered trouble, just as everyone had, but never anything he couldn’t handle with a steady hand and a straight shot.

Still, he knew not to get too cocky. Though he didn’t remember much of his childhood, he remembered his father trying to teach him everything he knew: _stay humble, stay cautious, stay safe._ When he was younger, he had a taste for risk. Now, when risk was all around him, he had decided that he could settle for a little caution in life. There were rules, now. Never walk in through the front door. Always check every room before relaxing. Ration food and water, even when there’s enough to last a lifetime. Raid the raiders before they can raid you. These were the kind of rules that had kept Josh alive long enough to see another day. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Plan ahead. It was safe.

It was monotonous.

Each day was spent trudging down identical road, checking identical crumbling buildings for supplies, hunting identical animals, and each day was just as boring as the last. Talking to yourself stops being fun once you realize that you already know the answers to your own questions. And raiders didn’t make for great company. Most of the time they either gave up their food and supplies and ran away without another word, or fought back and promptly died. Josh wasn’t one to shy away from putting a bullet in the back of a body. They only caused trouble anyway. None of them were very much “up for conversation.”

It was because of this monotony, this loneliness, that Josh let his feet scuff to a stop when he heard the gunshots in the distance behind him. His brain went through the possible scenarios; gunshots could mean a fight between raiders; they could mean danger; they could mean someone was in danger; they could mean someone to talk to. His heart pulled toward the latter option. He hopped off of the main road, off into the alleyway between buildings and wound his way around to the backs of what probably used to be shops and apartment buildings. Now they were crumbling slabs of concrete and rotted hardwood. Two more gunshots rang out, the sound ricocheting through the empty streets. He hoped that, whoever the “good guy” in the situation was, they hadn’t died yet. He was aching for some kind of interaction.

He was beginning to hear voices coming from somewhere ahead of him, harsh and loud and angry. He slowed his pace and pulled out his gun, being careful not to let the sound of his footsteps give away his presence. There were at least two of the angry voices, seemingly one male and one female, and a third, much more desperate sounding voice mixed into their conversation, repeating the same things over and over, _I don’t know, I don’t know, I swear, I don’t know._ Josh was filled with adrenaline and curiosity, and the two mixed to form a sickening excitement in his chest, and then guilt joined the mix. Was he really excited about someone being in danger? It had been a long time since he’d encountered anyone who wasn’t clearly a raider. Most of them passed through the area he inhabited to get to more populated lands, or to intercept the caravans that stopped only a few miles away. It provided Josh with easy pickings, but it wasn’t often that he heard a gentler voice in the mix of raiders who tried to sound tough on purpose. The voice he was hearing wasn’t tough. It was smooth, words flowing into each other in a constant babble of nonsense, and when it cracked, it cracked in fear rather than rage. Josh wondered what his own voice sounded like. It had been a while since he’d had a conversation.

Never go in the front door. The back door is always significantly quieter, more discrete, and less guarded. This back door was no exception. When he opened it, the conversation became clearer as it took place on the floor above him. The sound carried down through a hole in the floorboards. Someone was pacing, and Josh felt like the heavy footfalls were matching tempo to his heartbeat.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” said the voice that wasn’t pacing. Josh crept further into the building. “This was _his_ gun. You took it from him, and now you’re gonna tell me where he is–“

“Please, I don’t remember, I swear–“ The boy’s voice cut off with a choked sound. Through the hole in the floorboards, Josh could see half of the woman’s face, caked in grime and dirt. The man was pacing directly above him, making the ceiling rain down dust. Josh looked back forward, his eye catching on the stairwell. Without knowing the layout of the building, he couldn’t know exactly how exposed he would be if he climbed it, but there was no other way up in sight. Slowly, he edged toward the stairs.

“This is _his_ gun!” The man was suddenly yelling, and stopped pacing. “Do you hear me? Do you _understand_? If you don’t tell me where you got it, it’s going to be the one that shoots you straight between your eyes. Get me?” There was no response, and for a moment, Josh wondered what was going through the boy’s head. He prayed to god that it wouldn’t be a bullet. There was a gunshot, and his heart stuttered for a second before he heard the boy’s voice again a split second later.

“Stop, please, you don’t understand, I really can’t remember!” Josh took the stairs two at a time, pulling himself up silently and slowly by the handrail and hoping that the whole thing wouldn’t pop off the wall when he put all of his weight into it. The top of the stairs seemed to lead into a hallway, but the sound traveled easily to Josh’s ear, which meant that there would be nothing between him and the raiders once he reached the top.

“ _I can’t remember!_ Please,” the woman mocked, and there was a thud and a groan from in front of him. “What do you think we are, idiots?” Josh checked to make sure his safety was off before getting to the top of the stairs. He stayed low, keeping his body on the steps and peering over the top landing. Finally, he could put faces to voices. The man had started pacing again, running a hand through what patchy hair he had left on his head, muttering to himself. The boy he had heard wasn’t as young as he had predicted. He couldn’t tell exactly, mostly because of the blood on his face, but they could have been the same age. The woman was pinning him to the ground, sitting on his back with one hand holding his arm behind him and the other hand digging into the back of his scalp. She pressed him into the ground with more force than Josh thought her size would allow.

Then, the boy opened his red, puffy eyes and looked directly at Josh. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, and Josh wondered if the kid was even really registering that he was there. His expression gave nothing away but confusion, and his eyes were glassy. He looked half a second away from passing out. Josh blinked slowly and raised his gun, beginning to decide if he should shoot the woman first or the man. The woman certainly seemed to be causing the most amount of physical pain, as evidenced by the blood running down the boy’s forehead. It was a strange decision to have to make.

“This is ridiculous,” the woman said. She lifted the boy’s head by the back of the neck and slammed it down against the floorboards. The crack seemed to echo through the house. Josh aimed his gun at her, but didn’t shoot. She stayed sitting on the boy’s back where he lay unconscious and looked up at the man.

“Well, what did you do that for?” He said.

“He didn’t know anything. It’s fine. Just shoot him and we’ll be done with this bullshit.” Josh pointed his gun at the man.

“Yeah, I guess.” The man raised his gun, pointed it at the boy’s head, but Josh was the one to take the shot.

The man’s body thudded to the floor. He didn’t give the woman the chance to wonder what was going on. Another gunshot later and she was limp as a ragdoll, slumped over the boy where he was still pinned. Josh remained still for a moment longer, listening to make sure that there were no other raiders in the building, before standing straight and climbing the remaining few stairs.

He kicked the woman’s body off of the boy’s form, watching her and the man to make sure that they were both dead. Blood pooled around their bodies, and the scent of iron entered the stale air. The boy’s eyes were closed, and he was breathing softly as the puddle of blood from the woman on top of him leaked onto his clothes. His arm still rested behind his back where the woman had pinned it, but now he seemed much more relaxed. Josh sighed and knelt down next to him.

He was pretty, if he was being honest, at least for someone living in the wasteland. Pitch-black bands of tattoos traced their way around his arm and wrist, standing out against his the pale dirt on his skin. Josh wondered if they had the same tattoo artist. He had less scars than most of the people Josh encountered, and where he was passed out, he seemed much more peaceful than his surroundings of dead raiders and decaying buildings. Somehow, he seemed out of place; a hint of normality in a chaotic world. Josh sighed again and rolled him over onto his back, hoping that he made the right choice, that this boy wasn’t just another raider, or just another awful, malicious person, crazy for violence like the rest. He hoped that he saved the right one. But then, the only way to find out was to wait for him to wake up. He got up and began collecting pieces of broken floorboards to start a fire.


	2. Wonderings

He woke quickly and silently, just as he always did, but something felt different this time. Something felt wrong. His head hurt more than it usually did, even with his eyes still closed, and he ached despite not having moved yet. He felt as though he was forgetting more than he usually did. He couldn’t remember his own name. He opened his eyes.

He wasn’t sleeping in any kind of bedroll, which meant that something had stopped him from getting to a more comfortable place to sleep. He was on the ground, but when he looked through the holes in the ceiling, he couldn’t see the sky, which meant that he wasn’t on the top floor anymore. He remembered being able to see the sunrise in the morning. Or maybe that was somewhere else? He couldn’t quite place the memories. Maybe he was on the first floor? Or the basement. He could be in the basement. Memories flickered through his mind; a sunrise, the fog rolling out, watching a couple of people walking down the streets from outside of his window. Nothing in his mind helped him remember what had happened leading up to his consciousness.

He breathed a little deeper, testing his lungs. Everything seemed to be working fine. He wasn’t in any immediate danger, which made him feel better. He rolled his head to the left and saw empty bookshelves, which didn’t help him at all, but when he rolled his head to the right, a different scene panned out in front of him. There was a fire. A contained fire, made out of floorboards and surrounded by chunks of drywall and cement. It was comforting. Behind it was a person, a guy with a mop of messy red hair on his head and dark eyes. The guy looked at him, and he looked back. They were a match in their poker faces. He blinked.

“Who are you?” He asked. His voice didn’t sound unfamiliar to him. That was a good sign. The guy blinked back at him, and there was a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

“Um. Josh. I’m Josh.”

“Oh.” _Josh._ He had to remember that. Josh was calm. He didn’t seem to want to hurt him, which was… comforting? He didn’t know. He didn’t feel like he was in danger, but then again, it was impossible to trust anyone in this situation. “What happened?” He asked. A safe question. Josh looked confused again.

“You... I already… t-there were raiders. They were attacking you– I heard gunshots, so I came to try to help… you really don’t–“

“No, I don’t remember.” He pushed himself upright, sitting cross-legged. He stared at Josh from across the fire. Josh stared at him, obviously trying to figure something out from his expression. “I’ve asked you these questions before, haven’t I?” He asked, and Josh nodded slowly. “Sorry.”

“No, no. It… it’s fine. It’s probably because you got hit in the head.” He knew that Josh was wrong. Sure, maybe he’d been hit in the head by a raider fairly recently, but there was much more going on. He couldn’t remember what it was, exactly, but something had happened, and now he couldn’t remember things for very long. He remembered images, moments in time, little parts of conversations that he’d had with himself. But that wasn’t worth explaining. Instead, he said, “Yeah, probably,” and let it go.

“How do you feel?” He considered it.

“My head hurts.”

“Yeah.”

“But I think I’m okay.” Josh hummed and bit the inside of his cheek. His eyes looked tired, and they were so dark that they looked like they were all pupil. It was intriguing.

“What’s your name?” Josh asked. He took a moment to recall.

“Tyler.” Josh hummed again. “So you saved my life?”

“Uh, yeah. Kinda,” he said, ruffling his own hair. It flopped all over the place, loose curls falling over his forehead.

“Thanks,” Tyler said. He meant it. He’d gotten this far without dying, and that was something. He was grateful that someone had been there to save his ass when it really counted.

“Listen… those raiders. They were attacking you because you had someone’s gun, someone they knew. You didn’t get yourself into any bad shit, did you?” Tyler went silent, debating whether or not to tell the truth. If he lied, he could just be rid of this guy and go back to whatever it was he was doing before. But what was the point? He couldn’t remember what day it was anymore, or what he was doing, or even if he was going anywhere. Once he worked up the strength to actually get up, he could probably find a notebook or something that would tell him everything he needed to know about himself. He settled for the most vague answer he could manage.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t… know?”

“I don’t _remember._ ” He ran a hand through his hair and felt a cut on his forehead.

“Oh.”

“You’re not very good at making conversation,” he said after a pause, holding his hands out to warm them up against the fire.

“It’s been a while, okay? This isn’t exactly the most normal of situations, either.” Tyler shrugged lightly and looked back down at the fire. The crackling filled the room. He focused on remembering, on trying to figure out exactly what had happened leading up to this meeting with Josh. He couldn’t even remember waking up the first time. How long had he been unconscious? Nothing was coming back to him. He stopped trying.

“Why did you save me?” He asked instead.

“What?”

“You saved me, right? That’s what happened?” Josh looked flustered.

“I mean, I guess. I just killed the raiders…”

“But the raiders were going to kill me?”

“I dunno. Maybe. Yeah.”

“So then why did you save me?” Josh sighed and looked at the fire, not looking up to meet Tyler’s eye. He rubbed his eyes.

“I mean… I don’t know.” He looked up, met Tyler’s expectant gaze, and then looked back down at the fire. “I got lonely.”

“Lonely?”

“Yes, lonely, okay? It gets quiet out here. And boring. No one to talk to, nothing to do– I guess I thought that maybe you’d… I don’t know… be a change of pace?” He looked up at Tyler again.

“Hm,” Tyler said, nodding. He thought it was ironic. Josh seemed nice enough– certainly nicer than it seemed other people were in the wasteland– but if it took Tyler a good amount of effort to remember his own name, what good was he going to be to keep a conversation with? He felt guilty for existing, and the feeling settled into his chest like ice.

“Not that you’re obligated to- to–“ Tyler looked up and watched Josh search for the words. “–Stick around or anything.”

“Isn’t… isn’t this _my_ house?”

“Oh. Right. Then I guess I mean that you can kick me out any time you want.”

“I’m not going to kick you out in the middle of the night.”

“It- it’s not the middle of the night.”

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s just before sunrise.” Tyler looked out the window. The first streaks of a red sky were appearing from under the windowsill. His perception of the atmosphere changed. His perception of the coming moments changed. He was now trapped with this stranger. He couldn’t ask Josh to leave, not after he’d had saved his life and confessed that he did it because he was _lonely._ But he also didn’t know what to say anymore. He’d run out of conversation topics. He didn’t know what to do next because he didn’t know who he _was._ What’s worse, he would now have to explain to Josh his specific predicament involving memory, and he barely even understood it himself.

There were very few things that were particularly clear in Tyler’s mind. The one that he clung onto most desperately was the fact that he _knew_ that he couldn’t remember things. He knew that his mind was damaged somehow, and that he needed to write things down to remember them. He didn’t know how this fact had managed to stay with him, but he knew it as fact, and it wasn’t going anywhere. For that, he was grateful. He’d accepted it. But he’d never really explained it to anyone else before. Or, rather, if he _had_ explained it before, he didn’t _remember_ explaining it.

“Huh,” he said finally, feeling the need to fill the silence. “Interesting.” Josh looked at him as though he were waiting for the answer to a question. It clicked in Tyler’s mind a moment later. “Oh. Um. You can stay, I guess. For a bit.” He didn’t feel like determining exactly how long “a bit” would be, but the sentence made Josh’s eyes light up and Tyler watched as he tried to hide a smile.

The sun continued rising. In the firelight, Tyler could make out stacks of books against the wall to his right. He wondered if there would be a journal among the piles, something that would tell him what to do next. He rubbed his forehead again, feeling the cut there. He thought about the potential for having a concussion, but then again, could his brain really get any worse? He didn’t think so. He stretched his arms out above his head, leaned back, and pushed himself to his feet. Josh watched silently as he walked over to the book stacks. Some of the piles contained real books, ones written by real authors back in a time where people didn’t just _survive_ for a living. They all looked unfamiliar. Maybe that was why he collected them. Always a new story to read.

The stack farthest to the left was made up entirely of notebooks. Old leather and cardboard journals with pages that looked much more aged than they should have. Tyler wondered how long he had been living where he was living. He wondered who he was. He was about to find out. The notebook on the top seemed like the best place to start. When he opened it up, a few pieces of folded paper fell out onto the ground. He picked them up and walked back over to the fire, where he found Josh still watching him.

“What’s that?” he asked, stretching his neck up to try to look over the fire at what Tyler was doing.

“A journal.”

“For like, writing and stuff?”

“Something like that.” Josh went silent again. Tyler put the loose paper to the side. Each piece had a number or a letter or some combination of the two on it, like 2B or 4A. He opened the notebook.

The first page was a “Daily To-Do List” page, but it was much more complex than Tyler thought it would be. Each “to-do” had a whole list of steps and “if-then”s underneath it. _Check water supply. If water is less than two gallons, then go to river. If it is winter, then go to the river marked on map 2A. If it is warmer outside, go to river marked on map 2B._ And so on. Tyler silently thanked his past self for being so organized.

He assumed that the rest of the notebook was things that happened on a day-to-day basis. The most recently written-on page had an “important events” section, which read: _red-circled area on map 4D has an underground cellar filled with food (use in emergencies)_ ; _Do not trust raider with shaved head and red bandana (he doesn’t pay back debts)_ ; _New scar on right calf is from falling off of a fire escape_ ; _Found a broken radio– keep a look out for batteries and parts_. The list went on. Tyler was grateful not to have found anything warning against the red-haired boy that sitting across from him. He looked up to check on Josh, who was still staring at him inquisitively. The sun rose farther into the sky, filling the room with a dim light. He and Josh held eye contact for a moment. Tyler cleared his throat and considered saying something, but thought better of it. He slid all of the loose papers into the front of the notebook, closed the cover, and stood up. Josh looked up at him.

“I gotta check supplies and stuff,” Tyler said, and he nodded.

“Do you want help?”

“Um.” Tyler considered it. It might take him a moment to figure out where he’d stored his food and water, and he didn’t want Josh to think he was strange for having to search his own home just to find his storage. But why did he care so much what Josh thought of him? Was this just who he _was?_ He felt thrown off. His routine had been disturbed. He had the feeling that he was forgetting something, but he didn’t know _what._ He realized that Josh was still waiting for him to answer. “I… I think I’m good.”

“Okay,” he answered, and warmed his hands against the fire. It seemed that Tyler was the type of person to overthink everything. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that discovery. After running up and down a few flights of stairs, he discovered that his food, water, and other supplies were kept in the basement. A longer look into his notebook probably would have told him that, but he didn’t want to arouse suspicion in Josh– not yet, at least. He was running low on water, but food was okay, at least for the next few days it seemed. He certainly had a lot of medical supplies. He wondered if he was a clumsy person. He was already becoming tired of “wondering” things, and he’d only just woken up. He picked up two single-gallon water jugs and walked back to the fire, back to Josh.

“How cold do you think it is outside?” Josh looked up at him as he walked back into the room. He was stomping out the remains of the embers that were still glowing. With one boot left in the ashes, he answered.

“Not too bad, I don’t think. It gets cold at night, which is why I made the fire, but it should warm up during the day.” Tyler considered this. “Why?”

“I need to get water,” he said, lifting the jugs.

“Oh.”

“You can come with me.”

“Okay.” Josh took his boot out of the fire pit. He was shorter than expected him to be, but he looked a lot sturdier in build than Tyler by a long shot. He looked battle-worn. His eyes were tired, and his hair was messy, and he had flecks of scars going across the side of his face and down his neck. At the same time, he looked… Tyler couldn’t place the word. Soft? In a way. He had a lopsided smile and his eyes were dark but not cold.

Tyler realized that he was staring when Josh cleared his throat. He blushed and bent down to look at the maps in his journal. If it wasn’t cold then… go to the river on map 2B. He considered memorizing the map, but then remembered how bad of an idea that would be. He picked it up and put it in his back pocket. Josh walked around the fire pit to stand next to him and pick up one of the water jugs from the ground. Tyler felt himself tense when he got closer. He didn’t know why; it was a knee jerk reaction. He hoped Josh hadn’t noticed, but couldn’t help but overanalyze when Josh took a step back from him. He sighed. Tyler led the way to the front door on the other side of the building.

“The river is to the east of this town,” Tyler said once they got outside.

“I know. I live near here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

They started walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos/comments! I'll probably update this once or twice a week if all goes to plan. Once again, please leave comments if you want; I love feedback. Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Small Talk

Josh watched Tyler where he stood in the water, ankle deep, with his pants rolled up to just below his knees. There was a scar on the back of his calf that reminded Josh of fingernail scratches. Tyler was dunking one of the gallon jugs underneath the surface of the river and water was flowing all around his hands and his legs. The river itself was surprisingly clear compared to others that Josh had seen. Most were murky, saturated with dirt and fungus and dead bodies. Josh was sitting up on what seemed to be the remains of an old cement sewer drainage a couple feet away from Tyler on the bank. He sat cross-legged with his chin in his hands, watching.

Tyler was strange. Not in a particularly bad way; he’d met people who were genuinely insane, driven mad by the constant quiet of the wasteland or by the fear of dying or simply because of being alone for too long. Tyler wasn’t like that. He was just different. He always had a look on his face, a look of being lost in thought, always slightly confused, processing every detail of life as if every single sound and sight was vital. Josh was curious to know how long he’d been out in the wasteland, but Tyler looked so focused at the moment that he didn’t want to disturb him. He lifted the jug out of the water and sloshed it around, trying to figure out if it was full or not. He paused to look up at Josh with the same inquisitive look on his face. The jug of water was plunged back into the river, and Tyler’s focus went back to his task. Josh kept watching. He was startled when Tyler spoke.

“You said you lived near here, right?” He didn’t look up to meet Josh’s eye when he spoke to him, but Josh was okay with that. He was never one for eye contact anyway.

“Well, near enough to know the area. I go on supply runs at the edge of the town where you live, and I’m pretty sure I do laundry a couple miles downstream from here.” Tyler made a whistling noise.

“ _Miles._ ” Josh smiled, and Tyler lifted the jug out of the water again.

“Yeah, I mean, you gotta go far to get to the good stuff, right?” He plunged the jug back into the river.

“I don’t know.”

“I guess you don’t usually stray very far from home then, huh?” Tyler paused, letting his muscles still. Josh watched his face for any sign of an answer. He was noticing things about Tyler. Whenever Josh asked anything about his life, he always hesitated before answering. Josh tended to be an open book; he didn’t have any major secrets or anything that was too far out of bounds. Obviously he wouldn’t divulge information about his entire life to a total stranger, but still. He wondered if Tyler was lying, if that was why he was hesitating. Maybe he was just thinking too much.

“I guess not,” Tyler said finally. Josh didn’t feel very satisfied with the answer. It felt cryptic. He was becoming increasingly more curious, and at the same time suspicious. It made him excited. He was finally having a conversation, finally getting to talk to someone, getting to figure someone out. The frustration was worth it. This had been what he was hoping to have for so long. But then, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to ask Tyler all about himself. He didn’t want to scare him away. Or rather, he didn’t want Tyler to tell him to leave. Tyler pulled the jug from the river and deemed it full, navigating his way back across the slick rocks and back to the bank.

“Do you…” Tyler paused halfway through his question, and Josh raised his eyebrows. Tyler scratched his head and looked down at the two jugs, one in his hand and one on the ground. “Do you filter the water you get from this river?”

“No, not usually. In the summer I do, but when everything is frozen, there’s not much that could really contaminate it too badly.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Tyler put the jug in his hand down next to the first and rolled down his pants. He sat on the bank and began putting his socks back on. Josh stood up, stretched, and made his way back to Tyler. When he got closer, he could see Tyler tense up. His shoulders raised just a little higher, his movements a little stiffer. It had happened more than once now. First back at Tyler’s place, and many times on the walk to the river when Josh accidentally walked too close. He wondered if Tyler was picking up on his mannerisms as well. What _were_ his mannerisms? He was suddenly very aware of his own body.

“So…” Tyler said, putting on his second shoe and tying the laces. “You rescued me because you wanted to talk to someone, right?”

“I mean– kind of? Not _only_ because of that, of course, I mean, I do have _morals_ and… and stuff.”

“Of course,” Tyler said, standing up.

“But it gets pretty lonely out in the middle of nowhere. You probably get that.”

“Yeah, I think so.” Josh was beginning to realize that all of Tyler’s answers were as vague as possible. “So, what do you want to talk about?” Josh’s mind suddenly went blank, and he forgot every interesting conversation topic that could ever have possibly existed.

“Um…” Tyler smiled a little.

“What do you do for fun?” He asked, and Josh was grateful for the small talk question. Tyler handed him one of the jugs of water as he began talking. At first it was small things, random things; he liked to read, he liked music, he liked talking to himself. Tyler wasn’t satisfied with those answers, though. _What do you like to read? What kind of music? What do you talk to yourself about?_ Josh found himself rambling on and on; he liked gothic fiction the most, anything that made him really _think,_ you know? He liked any music, all music. He liked rhythms and songs that got stuck in his head. He listened to cassette tapes of whatever he could get his hands on, abandoned mix tapes and junk he found in the basement of an old record store. He talked to himself about life, about what he was doing, about his future, about the future of the world. He talked to himself about his fears and his hopes and about what everything really meant. He talked to himself about his dreams. Tyler nodded along and listened quietly. He had a soft kind of smile on his face, and he looked lost in thought and fully focused all at once. He didn’t get as tense when Josh got a little closer to him. Every so often, he would prompt Josh to elaborate or talk a little more about something. “How do you pick which books to take home with you?” “Where did you get the cassette player?” “What do you dream about?”

“What do _you_ dream about?” Josh finally asked. He realized that he’d been talking about himself non-stop. He wanted to get to know _Tyler._ But Tyler went silent. The smile disappeared from his face.

“I- I don’t really remember my dreams,” he said quietly. Josh felt frustrated and guilty and anxious all at once. He wanted Tyler to talk about himself. He wanted to have a conversation, not an interview. But he didn’t want to make Tyler uncomfortable, or make him regret even talking to Josh in the first place. He didn’t know what to say.

“Oh. Well, last night, I dreamt about spiders. But only their legs.” Tyler laughed. It sounded bubbly and sporadic and _happy._ Josh hadn’t laughed in a while. He laughed now. It felt good.

“Their legs?”

“Yeah.”

“Why just their legs?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m afraid of how hairy they are.”

“I have hairy legs.”

“Yeah, but your legs aren’t attached to a creepy exoskeleton body and pincers and- and- and too many eyes.” Tyler laughed again, and Josh smiled.

“What else?”

“What?”

“What else do you dream about?”

“Oh.” Josh told him. He told him about his weird dreams, ones about horses made of metal and upside down cities. He told him about his happy dreams, of being safe and comfortable and sleeping in a big, cushy bed with lots of pillows and blankets. He didn’t tell him about his nightmares. He didn’t get the chance to. Halfway through recalling a dream about a raider with an elephant’s head, he looked up at the sky for the first time. It was getting dark. Why was it getting dark? It was morning. His heart dropped into his stomach, and Tyler seemed to notice when it did.

“What?” He asked, looking up at the sky. “Why’s it getting dark.” Jeez, this kid really was oblivious, wasn’t he? How long had be been in the wasteland? Anyone would recognize a dust storm when they saw one.

“We gotta hurry, Tyler. It’s a storm. We can’t get stuck out here.” He could see Tyler getting more and more tense as the situation got serious. “What’s the quickest way back to your place?” Tyler opened his mouth but didn’t answer. Instead, he dug around in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Josh realized what is was as he unfolded it. A map. A _map._ Why did he need a map? Didn’t he _live_ here? Tyler stared at it quizzically, scanning his eyes over it. Josh looked back at the darkening sky. He wasn’t going to die out here, not now, not when he’d lasted this long. Not because he was being stupid and getting distracted and not paying attention to his own rules, his own guidelines for survival. _Always check your surroundings. Always check the sky._ Tyler was still looking at the map.

“Here,” Josh said, and took it out of his hands. Tyler made a small, startled noise and jumped back a step.

The map was detailed, that was for sure. It labeled every building in the west side of the town and even showed where the best path to the river was through labeled trees and bushes. Colored lines branched out from a red circle that Josh assumed was Tyler’s house. The ones that went off of the edges of the paper ended in little labels, _3C, 4A, 6B._ But Josh didn’t have time to ask about the map.

“Sun rises in the east, sets in the west,” he muttered, looking up at the sky. He found the sun, drew a mental line straight across the clouds, and figured out which direction they needed to walk to get directly to Tyler’s house in the fastest way. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Sorry. But we need to get moving. We’ll die out here if we get caught in a dust storm.” He looked at Tyler, and Tyler looked back with an expression that mixed fear and confusion in equal amounts. He nodded, and Josh began walking. He could hear Tyler’s footsteps just behind him. The wind was already picking up.

*****

The sky was howling outside, slamming dust and debris against the cement walls of Tyler’s home. Most of the windows were already boarded up, but they still went down to the basement to be safe. Josh had only gotten caught in a dust storm twice; the first, he was relatively okay. The storm itself didn’t last very long, and the dust wasn’t too thick. The second time was worse. Josh had gotten stuck in the middle of nowhere, pressed against the ground with his hands over the back of his head trying to keep the dust out of his eyes. Something had come out of nowhere, blown around by the wind, and hit him in the head. He woke up hours later, unable to see anything and barely breathing; his lungs rattled when he inhaled. It had taken him weeks to recover fully. From the way that Tyler didn’t seem too scared of the storm, it was easy to assume that he hadn’t been outside in a storm before. Maybe. Josh really couldn’t figure out what this kid was about. Every time Tyler looked at him it made his stomach do a little flip, half with anxiety and half with some feeling he couldn’t quite place.

Tyler was sitting against the wall across from him, cross-legged, with a stack of notebooks to his right. He was reading through them as though they were novels, but Josh could clearly see that they were handwritten with messy ink scrawled across the pages. Every so often Josh would catch him moving out of the corner of his eye, but they didn’t say anything. The wind outside served as background music enough. Josh tapped out a rhythm on his knees, leaning back against the wall behind him. Tyler looked up at him when he moved, then looked back down at his journals. He looked like he was studying, trying to focus and memorize rather than just skim. He was a peculiar person, Josh would give him that. He wondered what Tyler thought of him, now that he’d spilled all of his favorite things to do and strange habits.

The basement was getting darker by the second. There were small windows up by the ceiling of the room that were letting in less and less light as they were covered in wasteland debris. It was becoming harder to see, and Josh knew that eventually they should start a fire if only so that they could see each other. It was impossible to tell how long the dust storms would last. If they picked up enough steam, they could go for days. Josh felt guilty for thinking it, but at least Tyler couldn’t kick him out for a while now. Unless he was entirely heartless. But Josh didn’t really picture Tyler as the _heartless_ type. Then again, Josh really didn’t know him. And whenever he asked, Tyler just redirected the questions.

He didn’t know what he was expecting. Not everyone was as willing to just _talk_ as Josh was. He should’ve known. But still, he got his hopes up. He watched Tyler where he sat, flipping pages and biting the side of his thumbnail. Maybe it was just because he’d gone so long without seeing another peaceful face, but to him, Tyler really was something else. He just _looked_ different. The raiders all had their own things, skull bandanas or war paint or crazy gear. Tyler looked bare compared to all of the people Josh had encountered. He wore simple clothes, just a stained t-shirt with a few holes in it, blackened jeans, and boots. Nothing special, but ironically, it made him stand out more. Josh sighed, and it was a bit louder than he intended. Tyler looked up.

“Hm?”

“N-nothing. Thinking.”

“Oh.” Tyler looked down at his notebook for a moment, then looked back up at Josh. “About what?” Josh had to think fast. He couldn’t just confess that he was sitting there thinking about Tyler, could he? Well… _could he?_ No, no, of course not, what was he thinking?

“I don’t know,” he said, trying to stall. “Stuff.” _Smooth._ Tyler smiled a little.

“Stuff? Stuff about what?” Josh had an idea.

“Stuff about this book I read a while ago.” The thought seemed to catch Tyler’s interest. He closed his journal, keeping his thumb in-between the pages to mark his place. “It was this book of poems, _Out of the Dust._ This storm just reminded me of it.”

“What was the book about?” Josh began to explain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read any of Out of the Dust, it's a really good book of poems. Not vital to the story, though. I hope y'all enjoyed the chapter! This one was pretty fun to write, I don't know why. Leave a comment if you feel like it :)


	4. Notebooks (Part 1)

Tyler didn’t remember exactly when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, he was pleased to realize that he hadn’t forgotten what was going on. It probably meant that he hadn’t been asleep for too long. He did a mental check before he opened his eyes, making sure all his limbs were attached and mobile. He could hear breathing in the basement that wasn’t his own. He couldn’t remember the name at first, but it shot through his head a moment later. _Josh._ _Right_. What had they been doing? The memories of the river and of the dust storm leaked back into his head. He’d been reading his journals, figuring out who he was. _Okay_. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten anything. Maybe. He opened his eyes.

He was leaning up against the basement wall, surrounded by short stacks of journals. Josh was sitting across from him, eyes closed, with his chin resting against his chest. His breath was loud and it rattled in his chest, audible over the sound of the storm. The wind seemed to be weaker than Tyler could remember, but then again, he could be remembering the wrong storm. He stretched his neck back and sighed, letting his mind rest. He’d been on edge since he met Josh, trying to act as normal as he could, trying to remember things even more than he was used to. He was getting a headache. Finally he could just pause and relax.

He let his mind wander for a bit, thinking about things, thinking about Josh, making sure that he remembered everything that they’d done. He checked his last notebook to see if he’d written anything about their conversations, but there was nothing there. That made him nervous. He hoped he hadn’t missed anything, but it was entirely possible.

The notebooks didn’t tell him much about himself and his personality, but they were certainly a testament to his experience in the wasteland. The most recent page was labeled “Day 984,” but there was a disclaimer at the beginning of each journal stating that it was possible that he’d forgotten entire days. He reveled in how strange his life had become. He remembered some things from the wasteland days, specific storms or encounters with raiders. Other memories were more random; he remembered getting water from the river, searching for food on various occasions, patching up old clothes. The memories seemed to sort themselves into like experience and overlapped with each other. He envied Josh for his ability to think in linear terms. It was an odd thing to be jealous of. Josh groaned, stretched, and startled him out of his thoughts.

“Good morning,” Tyler said. Josh looked confused.

“It’s morning?”

“Oh… no. Well, I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t think so. I was just–“

“Right, right. Yeah. Sorry.”

“It was a joke.”

“Yeah.” Tyler was thankful that he probably wouldn’t remember how awkward the following silence was. Josh rubbed his eyes and looked at the ground, then at Tyler, then at the notebooks that surrounded him. He wondered what Josh thought of him. Then again, he didn’t really know what he thought of Josh. Before, he seemed kind of gentle, soft. But when the dust storm blew in, he got harder, tenser. It was like a switch had flipped and suddenly he was a different person. The rest of the situation felt muddled and foggy in his memory, but that moment was surprisingly clear. The house creaked as the wind got stronger, and Tyler could have sworn he heard the little windows beginning to crack.

He sighed deeply and let his head rest against the wall so that he was looking up at the ceiling. According to the notebooks, he’d been _here,_ at this particular house, for a few months, but he’d been in this town for a little less than a year. There seemed to be a gap in time before that, presumably while he was traveling or moving in to whatever house he’d been in first. He didn’t know. As per usual. Josh was still watching him, just like always.

“How long do you think this storm is going to last?” Tyler asked, looking at the dirt-caked window. There was a pause, and then there was silence, and then there was more silence. Tyler looked over at Josh, but he was just staring at him. “What?”

“You… you’ve asked that already. I already answered that.” Tyler’s stomach dropped.

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Sorry.” He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know how to bluff his way out of this one.

“You asked that question _three_ _times_ already.”

“Oh.” Josh was staring at him with a look that wasn’t even curious or confused anymore. He looked like he wanted answers, like he was sick of guessing. When Tyler let the silence go on for too long, Josh raised his eyebrows a little. He was waiting for an answer. Tyler didn’t want to give him an answer. He wanted to be normal. He wanted to stop swimming in his own memories, to stop forgetting his own name, to just _live._ He must’ve been normal at some point. Why couldn’t he just go back?

“Well?” Josh asked. He wasn’t angry, which surprised Tyler a little. He seemed frustrated at most, probably at not knowing what was going on. It wasn’t Tyler’s fault. He didn’t know what was going on either. Tyler took a breath, but couldn’t find the right words. This was why he hadn’t told Josh yet. He didn’t know what to say. How does someone even explain this? _I’m probably going to forget that you even existed once you leave._ Josh sighed. “Look, I know that it’s not a concussion. You’re not dizzy and you haven’t said anything about headaches, and your pupils are the same size.” Tyler wondered when Josh had gotten close enough at him to look at his pupils. He couldn’t remember. _Shocker._

“It’s hard to explain, okay?” Tyler finally said. Josh’s expression softened, if only slightly.

“Try me.” Tyler wanted to groan, scream, anything to let out his emotions _other_ than words. He didn’t even know where to start. How the hell did he explain this? “ _Tyler–_ “

“Okay, okay, just– ugh.” Tyler rubbed his eyes and looked down at his hands. “I’ve– I’ve got this memory thing, okay? I don’t… I can’t remember things. I forget almost everything, sometimes as soon as it happens, sometimes after a few days… it–it all goes away eventually.” Josh was silent for a while. Tyler kept watching his hands, not looking up. Eventually, Josh spoke.

“And that’s why you have all the notebooks?”

“I have to write everything down.”

“Hm.” He was silent again. It made Tyler’s chest tighten with anxiety, but he didn’t know exactly why. Maybe he felt guilty that after all this time, Josh was stuck with someone who wouldn’t even be able to remember his name for more than a day at a time. Or maybe he didn’t want to be seen as a freak, as some kind of broken down excuse for a human. “Okay,” Josh said.

“Oh…kay?” Tyler repeated.

“I mean… out of everything I’ve seen in the wasteland, this certainly isn’t the worst situation I’ve ever been in.” Tyler didn’t know how to respond to that, but Josh didn’t give him the chance anyway. “Oh god, that was awful. That sounded awful. No. I’m sorry that you have to live like that. I just made it about me. I’m so sorry–“

“It’s fine, Josh. It’s fine–“

“No, it’s not. That was… sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Josh ran a hand through his hair, tugging when it got tangled in the knots. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Tyler shrugged in an attempt to brush off the concern he heard in Josh’s voice.

“I don’t know. You just wanted someone to talk to, but you wound up with _me._ That’s just… cruel irony.” Josh paused.

“You’re pretty fun to talk to, Tyler. You listen.” Tyler let out a cold laugh, but didn’t say anything. He still didn’t look up at Josh. “What happened?” Tyler didn’t answer. Josh took the hint. “Do you remember?”

“No,” Tyler said. “I don’t.” Josh made a little “oh” noise, but didn’t say anything else. Tyler sighed. If he was going to explain, he was going to explain as much as possible. Josh deserved that. “I know that _something_ happened, though. There’s just a certain point that some of these memories start and a point where they drop off.”

“What’s the first thing you remember?” Tyler looked up. Josh seemed more curious rather than frustrated now. It made the ball of tension in his chest fade a little. It was strange to talk about this. He had to think hard about Josh’s question.

“It doesn’t really work like that. It’s all moments in time, random memories of nothing important. They all mix together. I can’t put a timeline on it.”

“But then how do you know that something is wrong with your memory if you keep forgetting things?”

“Some things are constant. There are some things that I know for a fact.”

“Like what?” Tyler rubbed the back of his neck.

“Like… I know that I have tattoos without reminding myself that they’re there because I see them every day. I know that this is the wasteland because I live in it. I know what to fear because I’ve gotten used to fearing it.”

“You know that you have a memory problem because it’s a constant factor.”

“Exactly.”

“Hm.” Tyler held eye contact with Josh for a moment before looking back down. “Well, you could have just told me right away.”

“I didn’t know if it would be worth it.” The truth slipped out of Tyler’s mouth before he could stop it, and Josh went silent. “I just… I figured that you would just leave once you found out. And then I would forget you anyway. It didn’t seem worth it.” Great. He made it worse. Now, instead of Tyler being trapped with Josh out of guilt, Josh was trapped with Tyler out of pity. He wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear forever.

“I…” Josh began, but paused. He seemed to be thinking hard about his words, probably choosing them much more carefully than Tyler was. “I can leave. If you want.” Tyler looked up, and his stomach dropped a little. Why did that make him feel worse? “I didn’t mean to intrude. But I do enjoy talking to you. I was… that was genuine.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.” Josh nodded.

“Okay.” He looked up at the window. “I mean, I couldn’t really leave right now even if I wanted to. You don’t need to make up your mind or anything.” Now Tyler nodded. He didn’t know what else to say. He felt like he was a walking disappointment, exactly the opposite of what Josh wanted. And he couldn’t do anything about it. He and Josh sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the storm and waiting for the other to say something, to say anything. Tyler sighed and decided let go of his apprehensions for a moment.

“I can’t really tell you about myself,” he said, and Josh looked up at him, “But I’ve got these notebooks. They go back years. If you want, you can read them?” Josh did his little lopsided smile and it made Tyler feel better.

“Yeah, that sounds cool. If it’s okay.”

“It’s fine.” Tyler began making a gap in his wall of journals to let Josh come and sit next to him. He made a conscious effort not to tense up when Josh stood up and walked toward him, but he couldn’t help it when he sat down directly to his right. He didn’t ask him to move, though. Josh settled up against the wall, looked at the notebooks, then looked at Tyler.

“Where do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Just so you know, the relationship in this fic is going to be a bit of a slow burn, and it's not going to be super... you know... smutty. More soft. You know. I have the next chapter planned out, and hopefully I'll have it published by Friday night, maybe Saturday. Leave a comment if you please!


	5. Notebooks (Part 2)

The storm was still going, just as Josh had predicted. Winter storms tended to be shorter, but the ones that sprung up in the mornings didn’t usually stop until the next day. The windows were fully blacked out in the basement, so Tyler and Josh had moved their situation up onto the first floor so that they could still see without making a fire. Some miniature tornadoes of dust sprung up on the floor every so often, blown around by the wind filtering under the front door.

They sat propped up against the wall across from the windows, surrounded by a sea of notebooks and journals and scattered pieces of paper. A few hours ago, they began laying the bigger stacks out into shorter stacks based on year, then month. Josh was still trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing. In what seemed like the beginning of Tyler’s life in the wasteland, he wrote down everything, down to what he ate or how much he drank or how far he traveled outside of his house at the time. Those notebooks were organized farthest to their left, stacked next to a pile of loose papers that had fallen out from between the covers. From those notebooks, Josh had learned that Tyler moved around a lot, changing house every few months and covering his tracks fairly thoroughly. He learned a little about how Tyler wrote, how his thoughts sounded. There were times when he was sarcastic, blunt, emotional. Whole pages were filled up with poetry and parts of ideas. When he and Tyler came across those while reading, Tyler said he had no memory of writing any of that. The poetry quickly dropped off.

As the writing went on and on and more notebooks were filled, Tyler’s account of his life became less specific. He wrote down only what he needed to know; where raiders were, where his home was, what he needed and what he had. Style and tone and thought process became entirely absent. Josh was beginning to feel pretty bad for Tyler. His whole life was narrowed down to a checklist, survival and nothing more.

There were several gaps in the narrative– occasionally, Tyler’s maps would drop off and pick up somewhere entirely different, whole weeks of his life just _missing._ He couldn’t remember them if he tried. Passages cut off halfway through and picked up on a new day. Some of the pages were stained with dirt and blood. Pages were ripped out, notebooks torn in half, shredded. It made Josh anxious. He didn’t want to think about what caused those bursts of destruction, frustration. When he got somewhere dark, he closed in on himself. Tyler seemed to do the opposite. But once again, the same as always, he said he couldn’t remember what happened or why.

“This is weird,” Tyler muttered as he opened the next notebook, interrupting Josh’s train of thought. They were nearing the end of the pile.

“Why?” Josh asked, leaning in to look at what was on the first page. Same as always; a checklist of what had to be done during the day. Josh noticed that the handwriting was messier than before.

“I don’t know. I’m just… getting to know myself, and it’s weird and kinda nice. But… I– I know that I’m just going to forget it all again.” Tyler dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and groaned. Josh didn’t know what to say. “Sorry. It’s just weird.”

“Yeah. I get it. Or, I don’t _get_ it, but–“

“It’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Josh sighed and rubbed his eye, looking out the windows to the storm outside. The sunlight that was coming in through the glass was tinted red with the dust and dirt and clay mixed into the air. It flooded the room with a surreal, dreamlike light. Despite the situation Tyler was in, he felt somewhat fulfilled in a way. He was finally having a conversation, talking to another living human being who was talking to him, too. His gut clenched with the idea that Tyler could easily forget this entire encounter. Josh could disappear and he wouldn’t know the difference between then and now. Would he be changed? People don’t just stay the same after experiencing something. How had his past influenced him if he couldn’t remember it? Tyler turned to the next page in the notebook. The scratch of paper was the only sound in the room. They kept going through the words.

Over the most recent year, it seemed that Tyler had stopped being so careful around raiders. Maybe because his aim got better. In each notebook, there was a sheet of paper that was essentially a ratio of hits to misses. One side of the paper was for bullets, the other for blades. The number had been steadily getting better as the notebooks were filled. On one page that was especially more bloodstained than any other that Josh had seen, there was a whole passage about a bunch of raiders that Tyler had encountered, and, apparently, taken out. Josh felt a swell of pride in his chest despite knowing Tyler for less than a day. At the bottom of the page was a line that read; _watch for infection– bullet in left thigh, cut on right bicep._ The whole notebook told a story, even if it wasn’t intended to. Josh was getting to know Tyler at the same time that _Tyler_ was getting to know Tyler.

At the end of the second to last notebook, there was a list of scars. Tyler had occasionally made lists like this throughout the books; random, little things that didn’t really mean anything. Tyler had hypothesized that it was probably a good way to pass time. Josh skimmed down the list. A thought weaseled into his mind, _I wonder if I’ll ever get to see any of those_. He felt a blush creeping up his neck almost as soon as the thought surfaced.

“This list isn’t complete,” Tyler mused. “I think I left some of them out.” Josh wasn’t sure whether or not he should ask which ones he left out. Maybe it was personal. Then again, maybe Tyler couldn’t remember whether or not it was personal. Tyler was right, this was weird.

Josh settled on humming in response rather than saying anything he would regret.

“Um…” Tyler sounded like he wanted to say something, but he stopped before he got any of the words out. Josh looked up at him but didn’t say anything. He was noticing little things about Tyler; it always took him a second to figure out exactly what words he wanted to say. It wasn’t worth it to rush him. “Thank. For… for reading through these with me.” Josh felt a smile creeping onto his face. Tyler was looking down at the book in his hands with a fairly blank expression on his face, but the words sounded genuine. “It’s a lot of work to try to remember all of this, and I mean… I’m going to forget it after a day or two anyway. It’s nice to know that someone else knows who I am even if I don’t.” Josh hadn’t thought of it like that. He hadn’t realized that he was now the only one who really knew Tyler’s whole life story and would _remember it._

“It’s no problem. It’s hard to find anyone… _nice…_ out here in the wasteland. I like getting to know you.” Tyler laughed, a sort of subdued version of the laugh Josh had heard before. Then he took a breath and looked down.

“This feels normal.”

“Normal how?”

“I don’t know. Just normal. Everything always feels really foreign to me, like something is always out of place or just _missing._ But I feel normal right now.” Josh smiled.

“Sick,” he said.

“Sick,” Tyler agreed. When they got to the most recent page of the most recent notebook, Tyler picked up a blank sheet of paper from the pile to his left, along with one of the markers that was scattered on the ground. In dark red letters, he wrote _JOSH KNOWS_. He put the paper in the notebook and closed it, wedging it among the pages. He sat back and smiled for a moment before his expression dropped. Josh noticed it.

“What?” He asked, wondering what was wrong.

“N… nothing. I just realized something.” Tyler paused. “I don’t think anyone else has read these notebooks but you.” Josh thought about it. They hadn’t seen any names in the journals, nor any mention of knowing anyone personally. It seemed that the closest Tyler had ever gotten to a friend was at a safe house that he’d stayed at for a couple of days, but the person running it was never mentioned in great detail.

“Huh.” Josh felt his muscles tense. He couldn’t exactly place the feeling, whether it was fear or anxiety or sadness, but it was there, and it was strong. He realized that he didn’t want to leave Tyler. He didn’t want Tyler to forget him the next morning or ask him to go away after the storm was over. He wanted to have someone to talk to and someone to be friends with and someone to trust, and he’d been waiting so long just to have a conversation. He knew he was being selfish. Tyler could make his own decisions, even if he would forget them later. He seemed perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and yet Josh was already worrying about him. He resisted the urge to sigh dramatically. Tyler was still just staring down at the notebooks. He had his thinking face on, the same face that he made when he was trying to figure out what words he wanted to say or when he was trying to remember something that was escaping him.

Maybe he wouldn’t forget Josh. He wanted to believe that he was at least a little bit special. After all, he was the first person who had ever been _named_ in Tyler’s notebooks. That made him happy, if only a little. It was all a guessing game.

The storm still raged on outside the windows, slowly coating them in layers and layers of dust and dirt and clay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, the chapter is a little shorter and later than I had expected it to be. Hope you enjoy?


	6. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also from Josh's general point of view– for a moment I was like, "no, I have to go back and forth, that's the pattern!" but then I realized,,, I'm the author and I do what I want. Also, I accidentally made it a LOT longer than I've made previous chapters... So enjoy!

Josh woke up to an absence of noise. The house was finally quiet after hours and hours of blowing wind, creaking floorboards and walls, dust crackling against the glass of the windows. He opened his eyes and looked up through a hole in the ceiling, one that let him see through to the second floor of Tyler’s house. _Tyler’s house._ _Right._ He blinked, slowly remembering where he was, what was going on. There was a layer of dust resting on his skin and clinging to his clothes. He sighed, sat up, dusted himself off, and then realized that he was being watched.

Tyler was sitting against the wall opposite from him, significantly farther away than he was when they fell asleep, staring at Josh. His face was stoic, judging, analyzing, emotionless. Josh remembered slowly his fears from the night before, that Tyler could have already forgotten him. Their eyes remained locked.

“You’re Josh, right?” Tyler said after a pause, still staring. Josh’s heart jumped with hope. Did he really remember him after all? Tyler looked down, breaking their eye contact. He looked down at his lap, and Josh realized that he was looking at one of his notebooks. He pulled out a piece of paper, the one that he’d written on the day before; “JOSH KNOWS” was written on it in marker. “You’re Josh,” Tyler repeated. Josh’s hopes were drowned just as suddenly as they’d sprung up. He didn’t know why he thought that he would be special. Tyler had already forgotten him, forgotten the conversations that they had, forgotten his voice and his personality and his whole existence. Josh sighed. He couldn’t hold Tyler responsible for it, but he still wanted to blame _something._

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah.” He paused. It couldn’t hurt to ask… “Do you remember me?” Tyler paused. His expression didn’t change. There was no light of recognition in his eyes. There was nothing. He blinked.

“No.” Josh’s heart all but dropped straight out of his body. “I mean… kind of. Not really. I’m not _uncomfortable_ with you… here… so I guess I must know you well enough for that.” It didn’t make Josh feel much better, but it was something. Still, it felt like there was something missing in the room. He felt lonely again, somehow, as though Tyler forgetting him reduced their previous friendship to nothing. He felt guilty for feeling that way, but the sentiment wasn’t going away. “Why do we know each other?” Tyler asked. He seemed genuinely curious, even if his features didn’t give much away. Josh sighed. He mentally prepared himself for the length of the explanation.

He told Tyler about the raiders first, explaining how they first met. Tyler touched the cut on his forehead when he told him how he got knocked out, and Josh wondered if he remembered anything at all. He told him about getting water, but he didn’t go back over everything that he’d told Tyler about himself. He didn’t know where to start. And, if he revealed it all now, there was the potential to run out of things to talk about later on. And, now that Tyler trusted him more, there was a chance that the ramblings could turn more into a conversation if Tyler wanted to open up.

The thought popped into his head that he could re-do every conversation he had with Tyler. He could change his answers, be whoever he wanted to be, be someone else. Someone more planned out, smooth, not as awkward and anxious. Then he realized that he’d be lying. Not only that, he’d be lying to someone who had no chance at catching him. He couldn’t do that to Tyler. There was no chance for him to get to know Josh if he kept changing his stories and his words and his personality. That was the point of this, wasn’t it? To get to know someone? To have someone to talk to? He kept telling Tyler about the previous day, putting his train of thought to the side.

He told Tyler about the beginning of the dust storm, finding their way back, about how Tyler tried to explain how his memories worked. He told Tyler about how they read through his notebooks together. This seemed to surprise Tyler. He made a confused face and looked down at the notebook in his lap.

“Really?” He asked. Josh nodded, and Tyler put on a cold smile. “So _you_ know me better than _I_ know me.”

“You said something like that last night, too.” Tyler just nodded slightly, his face transforming back into the same emotionless one he was wearing before. For the first time, Josh really noticed that the dust storm had ended. He wondered what Tyler was going to do now, if he would ask him to leave or let him stay. He didn’t even have a vague idea of what to expect. Before, when Tyler still remembered him, _knew_ him, he had a chance. Now that Tyler had forgotten, there was no reason for him to ask him to stay. He didn’t know him anymore. He didn’t remember who Josh was. He mentally groaned, half in frustration and half in suspense.

Josh didn’t know what he wanted, anyway. He knew that he would want to go back to his own house eventually. It was homier than Tyler’s– it had a bed, at least. He didn’t move around as much as Tyler, but he was never one to be opposed to exploring his surroundings and spending days away from his starting point. Maybe he could offer that Tyler came back to his house? Or maybe that was just too desperate.

As they continued to sit in silence while Tyler flipped through his notebook, Josh was reminded of the first time that he and Tyler _really_ met, the first time that Tyler woke up and talked to him. He had the same aura around him, quiet, subdued confusion, analyzing and overanalyzing everything.

“This blood isn’t _mine_ , is it?” Tyler asked. The question startled Josh into the present. _Blood?_ Tyler was twisting his shirt around his torso, looking at the stain on the back. It was dark red and looked a little crispy now that it had dried more. Josh remembered the raider that he killed, the one that had fallen onto Tyler’s back when she died, when she bled out. He’d completely forgotten about it. The stain remained on Tyler’s shirt, though.

“Um. No. No, that’s not yours. That’s… yeah.” Tyler raised his eyebrows at Josh, then at the stain.

“Okay. Then I want to get a new shirt.”

“Yeah, I can understand why.”

“And on the way back from the mall… _here_ ,” Tyler spent a moment searching through maps, pointing to one of them labeled _3A,_ “We can stop…” he found another map, _3B,_ “Here… to restock on food.” Josh felt proud for some reason. He was proud of Tyler for knowing how to live his life the way he had to, proud of him for keeping up with his routines and obligations. Then again, this was what Tyler did every day. This was life. This was life, before Josh. He was a wrench in the gears that had been running so smoothly before.

Tyler spent a moment picking up some weapons and a bottle of water, shoving them into a little backpack that was laying by the bookshelves by the door, along with his notebook and maps. They were out the door within minutes, but they hadn’t said another word to each other. It was like Josh was just tagging along, bearing witness to the military order of Tyler’s life. Everything was a list, and every item on the list had its own list. They walked through the empty streets, on constant guard, passing abandoned buildings and broken down cars. Tyler broke the silence of the walk.

“I’m sorry that I forgot you,” Tyler said, looking down at his feet. Their steps made a hollow noise in the empty, abandoned street. He cleared his throat. “I really… I really can’t help it. I know you probably know that now.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve known each other for a day, right?”

“Yeah, just since yesterday.”

“Okay. I mean, that’s probably why. My short term memory is… _whew…_ ” Tyler rose his eyebrows, “But I remember things that are constant.” He paused. “I probably explained that yesterday.”

“Yeah, you did.” Josh wondered what Tyler was implying by saying this. That maybe, if he saw him every day, Tyler would start remembering him? Remembering their conversations, their time together? He couldn’t tell. He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to intrude, but his step was a little lighter at the thought.

The building that Tyler led them to was massive. It was in the middle of several shorter buildings, towering up above them, one of those mall buildings that went up instead of out. Josh looked up at the layers of cracked windows and missing chunks of brick that were scattered up the height of the walls. At the top, there was scaffolding where a sign might have been at one point, but now it was nowhere to be seen. Tyler looked down at his map and checked to make sure that the building was the right one. He nodded, folded up the paper, and put it in his pocket.

“Aw, I forgot my money,” Josh said jokingly. Tyler gave a breathy laugh, smiling genuinely for the first time that morning.

“Guess you can’t buy anything, then,” Tyler said quietly. He began to lead them towards the front doors. Everything in Josh’s mind screamed against it, but he didn’t want to say anything. Not everyone had as many rules for survival as Josh did. He didn’t want Tyler to think he was weird. Tyler and Josh both pulled out their weapons at the same time, Tyler with a switchblade and Josh with his handgun.

The door swung open with a series of creaks and cracks, all of which echoed against the tall ceilings. There was a sign in front of them that read _Directory,_ and under it there was a list of every store in the building. Tyler took a moment to look around and make sure that no one else was on the floor that they were on. Josh looked past him at the directory. The second level was labeled _Outdoor Supplies_ , which seemed like it would be the best bet for new clothes that would last. Tyler probably already knew this. It was probably written on the map in his pocket.

They took the emergency stairwell up to the next floor, weapons at the ready, waiting for something to go wrong. This was always Josh’s least favorite thing to do. If there was one _worst part of the apocalypse_ , this was it. It was terrifying. More times than not, Josh would encounter other people, mostly raiders, but it could easily be worse. There were the boney little monsters that roamed the wasteland, products of insanity and disease and radiation. Some of them spawned from animals, others from humans, and no one knew where exactly they came from. It wasn’t like there was some kind of database for everything that was going wrong in the world. The building creaked with the wind, and Tyler and Josh both tensed.

The outdoor clothing section was a conveniently open floor plan; there weren’t many places for things to hide and ambush them. They checked the whole floor anyway, peeking around shelves and inside rotating clothing racks. The closest that Josh got to finding something dangerous was when a bird flew out of a rack full of winter jackets. He nearly fired a shot at it when it startled him. After a few minutes, Tyler met back up with him at the stairway entrance to the floor.

“All clear?” Josh asked. Tyler nodded. He switched his knife closed, put it into his back pocket, and took off his backpack. “Are we going to check the rest of the building?”

“Nah. This building is massive. It’s got, like, 40 floors.”

“Right.”

“We’ll just be careful.” Josh nodded. Obviously, they couldn’t check every floor, but Josh wasn’t use to _not_ being thorough. He felt anxious. “Come on. We can find some good stuff here.”

Tyler was starting to loosen up again, just like he had the day before. After finding the shirt that he wanted to find, a plain black shirt with the minimal amount of moth-holes chewed through it, he started trying on random things from around the store; big, white sunglasses, random fishing hats, floral shirts and jackets from the women’s section. He came back over to Josh wearing a strange assortment of colorful clothing. Josh was sitting on the ground, lacing up a new pair of boots that he’d found in the storage section. They were waterproof, unlike his old boots, so that was a plus.

“Why don’t they make men’s clothes this colorful?” Josh looked up and immediately laughed. Tyler was wearing a too-small floral tank top _over_ his own t-shirt, a pair of massive sunglasses, and bright pink running shoes. “What?”

“Nothing. You look pretty.” Tyler blushed hard from underneath his sunglasses. Josh blushed too.

“Thanks,” Tyler muttered. He took off the glasses and rubbed his eyes, looking around at the room. “What did you find?”

“Boots,” Josh responded bluntly.

“Boots.”

“ _Nice_ boots. Better boots. Better than my boots _,_ boots.”

“Boots,” Tyler repeated. They both busted out into laughter, giggling at the stupidity of their own conversation, at the stupidity of Tyler’s outfit, at the stupidity of the apocalypse. They laughed until they lost their breath, until they had tears streaming down their faces, until they heard a crash from the floor above them that cut their voices off immediately. They went silent, breathing heavily into the empty store, looking up at the ceiling and listening, only a few feet between them. There was nothing, nothing, nothing, and then, footsteps. Big, thudding footsteps, uneven against the tiles above them. Josh looked back down at Tyler. His face was pale, any hint of joy escaping his terrified features. Josh was sure that he looked equally afraid. In his head, he was chanting, over and over and over, _please be a raider, please be a raider._ He didn’t want to have to fight off one of those monsters. He didn’t want to see the face that gave him nightmares. Even _Tyler_ seemed to remember the fear that those things brought with them.

The ceiling creaked again, then cracked. Tyler looked at Josh this time. They made eye contact, waiting. Josh didn’t know what else to do, so he brought a finger to his lips to make sure that Tyler would stay quiet. Tyler just nodded. The ceiling cracked again.

It felt like hours were passing. Josh’s thighs were beginning to hurt where he was crouching. One of his shoelaces was still untied. Tyler looked even paler than before, which was saying something. After a few more moments of silence, Josh let out air he hadn’t realized he was holding. Almost as soon as he did, the ceiling groaned like it was taking its dying breath, and then collapsed altogether.

Josh yelled. Tyler screamed. A messy black creature splattered down onto the floor directly in between them.

Tyler and Josh both took a few steps back from it. It lifted its head, shaking the muck out of its eyes. Josh thanked god that this one wasn’t human. It seemed to look something like a large dog, or a small bear. He wondered what it had looked like before it had mutated. It began to growl. Josh picked up his gun off of the ground where he’d left it. The metal clicked against the white tiled floor, and the creature snapped its head towards the sound. He froze and looked up at it. It tilted its head at him. He saw Tyler on the other side of it, slowly pulling his knife out of his pocket. Josh wondered how he was going to react to this whole situation, if he would remember how to fight, how to defend himself, how to survive. The creature took a step forward. Its spine swiveled, turning in a full circle to situate its legs underneath it. The bones that rested under its rotting skin all cracked at once, and Josh felt a chill go down his back.

Tyler’s knife clicked when it opened, and the creature’s neck snapped the other way. Josh was appalled. Why wouldn’t he have just run? Why not get away, as far away as he could, while he still had the chance? Tyler made eye contact with him, and he understood.

“Run,” Tyler said calmly, and then Josh was running through shelves of climbing gear and shoes, trying to keep his eye on Tyler as he wove in and out of clothing racks, but he lost track of him. He heard the wet slap of the creature’s claws and bones against the floor. He could hear Tyler’s breathing, but he couldn’t see him.

It appeared at the end of his isle when he got halfway down the racks, and he pulled his gun up immediately, shooting once, twice, nailing it both times in the shoulder and chest. It hissed at him, writing for a moment. Josh took the opportunity to run the other way. He didn’t have any idea where Tyler was. The store that had once felt open now felt like a maze. Josh ran towards the back of the store, weaving in and out of shelves and clothing racks to try to lose the thing. He could hear Tyler’s shoes thudding against the floor, and the cracking of the creature’s claws somewhere behind him.

Then the footsteps stopped. The claws stopped. Josh skidded to a halt, listening for any sign of movement where anything was, either Tyler or the creature. It was worse this time than when the thing was still on the floor above them. Now he knew it was here somewhere, in the same space as them. And now, it was hiding, stalking them like prey. There was a crash only a few isles over form him, and he heard Tyler scream again only moments before he saw him running around the corner of Josh’s isle. He looked terrified.

“Behind you!” Tyler yelled, and Josh felt the claws in his back a split second later. He found himself face down on the ground, instinctually lacing his hands over the back of his neck, just like his dad had taught him years ago. _Always defend the most vital points._ He felt the drool from the things mouth dripping onto his shirt. He closed his eyes.

He heard a thudding noise, and then the thing went limp on top of his body. He didn’t dare move until he felt Tyler’s cold hands on his arms, dragging him out from under the creature. He stood up, breathing heavily, and looked at Tyler. He seemed find, albeit a little panicked. Then he looked at the thing lying dead behind him. It had Tyler’s knife sunken deep into its skull, all the way down to the hilt. Josh took a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

“Did you throw that?” He said, trying to hide the lingering fear in his voice.

“Uh-huh.” Tyler wore his fear on his sleeves. His voice cracked, and his breathing was still choppy and loud.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Tyler cleared his throat.

“I didn’t either.” He regained some composure, walking past Josh to nudge the carcass with the toe of his now-soiled pink sneaker. “Damn shadows,” he muttered under his breath.

“Shadows?” Tyler blushed.

“Oh. I don’t know. That’s what I remember them as.” He nudged the creature again. “These things.” He stepped back when it began oozing out a puddle of blackened blood. “Shadows.”

“Huh.”

“It sticks in _here_ ,” he said, tapping his head.

“Yeah, I get it,” Josh said quietly. Tyler looked down at what he was wearing, at the ridiculous floral tank top that he still had on over his shirt. He pulled it off over his head, sighing as he threw it down to the ground.

“Maybe we should have cleared more than _just_ this floor,” Tyler muttered, looking up at the ceiling. He could only hope that there was just one of them in the building. He didn’t think his heart was up for another encounter like the last one.

“Or we could have been quieter,” Josh countered. Tyler laughed and looked down at his sneakers. He toed them off.

“You need a new shirt,” he said, looking back at Josh. “Is your back okay?”

“Oh.” Josh rolled his shoulders, trying to figure out how deep the thing– the Shadow’s claws went. He didn’t _feel_ injured. Maybe it had just cut through his shirt. “I think I’m fine.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Thanks for… for killing it.”

“No problem.” The Shadow bled out slowly on the floor, its eyes still open and glassy. Josh went shopping for a new shirt. Tyler went to try to find his shoes. They never took their eyes off of each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think this is going to be more of a friendship fic than a relationship fic. There's gonna be some cute fluffy stuff of course, and I guess it could be read as a relationship pretty easily, but just a heads-up I guess. Also, what would be the reaction if I included some other band-people? Like, idk, Pete and Patrick and Brendon or some other people? Or should I make my own original characters? Thoughts? Thanks for reading! Also, in case you want to follow me on tumblr, my url is probably_not_captain_america .


	7. A Crooked Home

Their feet scuffed against the dirt, kicking up little clouds of dry earth. Tyler kept tripping over the little dry-land plants that hid their roots just beneath the surface layer of dust and soil. The sun was beginning to set, though by Tyler’s guess, it wasn’t too late in the day. It was always hard to tell in the winter. Sometimes, it was hard to tell if it even _was_ winter. He wondered if there was a functioning watch left anywhere in the world.

Back at the clothing store, he and Josh had spent a while picking out new clothes and better equipment. Then they spent an even longer while messing around, exploring the upper levels, going through random department stores and the like. In the end, Josh came away with more than Tyler, justifying it by saying that he could just store the extra stuff back at his house. His new boots were making little squeaking sounds as the new leather broke itself in. His arms were loaded up with everything that didn’t fit into his bag; empty water bottles, socks, and anything else that he thought he might want to replace. Tyler didn’t take much– better jeans, a couple extra shirts, clean socks and the like. It all fit into the new backpack that he’d picked up. He was grateful that things didn’t cost money anymore; otherwise, he would have definitely been broke after all that. The outdoor store was certainly more on the expensive side based on the old brown price tags that hung off of all of the racks. He had reluctantly left behind the pink sneakers, tank top, and sunglasses. There was no room in this life for anything unessential.

Josh had suggested that they go back to his house after they finished up the run. He wanted to drop his things off, sort through his older clothes. And he wanted to eat a better meal than just the protein bars that he and Tyler had eaten the night before, sitting on the ground reading notebooks. He wanted a hot dinner. Tyler wasn’t about to protest a hot dinner.

They walked in silence, the tiredness of the day bringing them both into quiet contemplation. Tyler wondered what Josh was thinking about. He wondered what the two of them were going to do next. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. Josh was amazing. He was kind, and funny, and he knew how to defend himself. How long had it been since someone had come around that Tyler could actually _talk_ to? Obviously, he didn’t remember, but from the way his notebooks had looked, it seemed like Josh was something new in his life of lists and order. And to add insult to injury, Tyler was starting to remember things more clearly. It wasn’t as choppy as it usually was. He could remember Josh’s face when he looked away, remember the Shadow attack perfectly, no details missing. He could remember the first time he saw Josh’s face. Things were becoming linear rather than scrambled.

He hadn’t told this to Josh yet. He didn’t know what it meant. He didn’t want to get Josh’s hopes up. It could easily have just been because of the physical reminder of Josh’s presence; he was _there_ , a new constant, a new reason to remember the things that had been happening. It wasn’t as if he was ungrateful, though. Tyler felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest, one that had been there for years. He never realized it before, but among the many constants in his life, fear was one of them. Loneliness, too. With someone there with him, someone who he trusted, he felt safe, comfortable even. Less tense. Less…

“Tyler!” He blinked, and Josh was in front of him, both hands on his shoulders. The world felt muddled. His ears were ringing, and his hands were tingling.

“Huh?” His own voice sounded far away, slowly coming into focus. Josh’s eyes were worried. Why were they so worried? What happened? The sky was darker now, just a little, but Tyler noticed it. Had time passed? How much?

“Are you okay?” _Was_ he okay? He felt like he was panicking, but he couldn’t place the feeling exactly. Josh looked into his eyes expectantly, and he wanted to look away, but he didn’t. They were so _dark._ Had they always been that color? “ _Tyler–_ “

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He pushed Josh’s hands off of his shoulders. He was too close. Too close. What time was it?

“What happened?” Tyler was suddenly frustrated. How was he supposed to know? How was he supposed to know _anything?_ His head was pounding, as it had been for the majority of the day. He’d been focusing too hard on his own mind for too long. He realized that Josh was still waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know. What– I don’t know.”

“You just… zoned out or something. You looked like you were going to faint.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve done that before.”

“Have I?” He couldn’t remember.

“Yeah. The first day we met, you just… blanked.”

“Oh.” It unsettled him. Did this happen often? He had no recollection of this ever happening before. It wasn’t in his notebooks. He didn’t want to know that there were even more spots of his life that were just _missing._ His head pounded even more.

“Are you okay now?”

“Yeah,” he said. It wasn’t entirely a lie. It wasn’t like he was dying. He just wanted to sit down, drink some water. Eat something. “I’m fine.” He didn’t want to freak Josh out any more than he probably already had.

Josh’s house was half buried in the earth. It was more of a shack than anything else, springing out of the ground sideways as though it was a wilted flower, unable to hold up its roof. Some parts of the walls were held together by black trash bags and tape, and in other places there were huge splatters of bright purple and blue paint. It matched Josh’s personality perfectly. Josh smiled as soon as he saw it out in the distance. It wasn’t too far away from Tyler’s abandoned town. They hadn’t been walking for too long. The house was certainly out in the middle of nowhere, though, way on the outskirts of the town that Tyler had mapped out.

“There used to be a lot more little storage units out here. I used to loot them,” Josh said, keeping his eye on his home. “Then they sunk.”

“Sunk?”

“Remember a while ago when there were those massive rain storms?”

“No.”

“Oh. Right.” Josh cleared his throat. “Well, there were… massive rain storms. A while ago.”

“I got that,” Tyler said, smiling a little. They were getting closer to the house. There was a little dirt garden outside of the front door with sticks pointing straight up out of the mud like they were supposed to be plants. For someone who looked so badass, Josh really was just a dork.

“Yeah. And when it rained, the storage containers were so heavy and the whole area was just loose dirt and dust, so they just… sunk. Down. And they’re under here, somewhere.” Josh let his footsteps thud against the ground a little more, and Tyler looked down. “And my first house sunk. Not all at once, obviously. I got my stuff out, and changed house. And I mean, it’s still sinking, but… you know… less so.”

“Huh,” Tyler said. As the sun was setting, his head was beginning to hurt less. His thoughts still lingered on his apparent loss of even more memory, but he tried to shake it out of his head. They got to the front door of Josh’s house, which read “josH” in finger-painted red letters.

“Sorry. It’s kinda dumb,” Josh muttered, balancing his pile of new supplies pulling a key out of his back pocket. Tyler thought that a key was somewhat pointless, as it seemed like someone could easily just punch their way through the side walls of the shack.

“It’s great. It’s got personality.” The statement made Josh smile a little. The lock clicked, and the door swung open halfway before skidding against the hardwood floor and coming to a halt.

“Home sweet home.” Josh squeezed himself through the half open door, and Tyler followed, being careful not to get his backpack stuck. “ _Mi_ house _es_ _tu_ house.” He clicked the _on_ button on a battery-powered lamp that hung right next to the door, giving the interior of the shack a dim, white glow.

“ _Casa_ ,” Tyler said, correcting Josh’s statement.

“Yeah, that.” Tyler rolled his eyes and smiled. “You want a tour?” Josh was smiling too, looking around his home. He was obviously happy to be back. There were little trinkets nailed up to the walls, cracked records and CDs and random paintings and photos and posters. The walls were lined with shelves that were all propped up on one end so that they stood straight on the slanted floor. The floor was covered with a thin layer of dust, presumably from the storm. “I mean, there’s not much to tour. It’s one room. But still.”

“Sure.” Josh gestured to the whole space and began explaining the setup of his house. The very back right corner had a mattress in it that was entirely covered in big blankets and pillows which apparently had to be shaken out every so often because of the dirt that would blow in from in between the cracks in the walls.

The back left corner was for shelves and books and music and anything else that Josh couldn’t find place for. In the front by the door there was a makeshift kitchen, made up of a lopsided table and an old refrigerator. Across from the kitchen was a pile of clothes that were to be either thrown out or eventually washed in the river, not too far away from where Tyler and Josh had gotten water the other day. There was a couch, too, with books surrounding it. It looked like the newest, most in-tact thing that Josh owned. Josh explained that everything he had in his house had previously come from the other storage units. He hadn’t gotten to look in all of them before they sunk. He seemed upset about it.

Eventually, Tyler ended up sitting at the crooked kitchen table, listening to Josh ramble on and on about his various excursions into the wasteland while he started pouring soup into a pot from an ancient looking can, _Chicken and Dumpling._ Tyler felt like this was normal; this was what life was before the wars and disasters and before life went to hell. Before he began forgetting days as soon as they happened. Before he was even born, families would sit around and make dinner together and talk about their days, telling stories. It was comforting. It felt natural, like second nature, to just listen to Josh talk on and on. He tended to ramble, to jump from one subject to the next without much of a transition or introduction. He went from one story about finding a pair of signed drum sticks in the basement of a music store to another, seemingly unrelated story about a time that he accidentally lit a building on fire a few towns over. Then Josh stopped talking.

Tyler looked up at him for the first time in a while. He looked blank, lost in thought. There was a silence hanging in the air around them, something that made Tyler think that something big was coming.

“Do you think that you’re ever going to remember me?” Tyler’s heart sunk. “I mean, all the way. All… all of our conversations, and all of… all of this.” Josh stirred the soup over the fire he’d lit on the stovetop. He didn’t look up.

Tyler realized that his head was still hurting. He’d forgotten about it when he was listening to Josh. The request for an answer was hanging over his head.

“I don’t know.” He felt guilty. It was an answer that he’d probably given twenty times over the brief hours that Josh had known him, and yet it was the closest to the truth that Tyler could give him. “I–I feel… steady. Around you. But it’s harder, too. Like, I know that I don’t have to remember everything, because I have you to remind me of it, but…” Tyler rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We’re just avoiding the big question here.”

“I feel like there are a lot of big questions–“

“The _biggest_ question. Of whether or not we stick together.”

“Oh. That.” Josh looked afraid. More afraid than when they’d encountered the Shadow. It was a different kind of afraid. He stirred the soup again.

Tyler didn’t know what he wanted. He never knew what he wanted. On the _stay together_ side of the argument, he knew that Josh was a nice person. He knew that they had a better chance of survival together. That had already been proven. And Josh already seemed to be helping Tyler’s memory; a new constant in a life of inconsistency. But then, there was the thought that Tyler was avoiding; if he wanted to, Josh could ruin his life. It seemed improbably, unlikely, but the possibility was there. Josh could lie, could manipulate Tyler into doing anything he wanted, and Tyler wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between reality and lie. The notion pulled dread into his heart. Trusting someone was hard when you couldn’t tell the difference between their truths and their lies. But he didn’t want to tell Josh that. Maybe he was just being a pessimist, assuming the worst in everyone. Then again, was it really so absurd to be cautious? His headache was getting worse.

“Um,” Josh said, pouring the soup into two bowls and bringing them to the table. Tyler emerged from his thoughts. “I… I don’t–I’m not going to force you into anything, obviously. But you’re, um, you’re welcome to stay here if you want.” He sat down across from Tyler. “I enjoy the company. And we make a good team.” Tyler didn’t answer. They ate their dinner in silence, watching as the sky outside went from dark to darker, as start started coming out and scattered themselves across the sky.

Tyler knew that he was being ridiculous. He needed to give Josh an answer. Josh clearly had already made his case; he wanted someone to trust, to talk with, to survive with. Tyler was being the indecisive one. He was being the unreasonable one.

But he didn’t feel like deciding. He felt heavy and numb and he just wanted to go to sleep. He realized that the silence between him and Josh was going on for far too long.

“Sorry,” Tyler said quietly. “I don’t feel good.”

“Are you okay?” Josh sounded genuinely concerned, and it made Tyler feel even worse.

“Yeah, just… a headache.”

“Oh. You do look kind of pale.” Josh paused. “Do you… I mean, you can stay here for the night. I’ll make the couch a little more… comfortable?” Tyler smiled a little, still looking down at his half eaten bowl of soup. His stomach was beginning to hurt. He wondered, if he went to sleep fast enough, would he avoid a migraine? Josh stood up from the table and began to bring blankets and pillows over to the couch against the wall. Tyler stared down blankly, wondering just how much of the day he would remember in the morning. Would he just forget, like always? The thought scared him a little. What if he didn’t want to forget again? What if he wanted to remember, to make a connection, to keep a friend? His head was pounding.

Once Josh had set up the bed, Tyler issued a quiet “thank you,” and laid down, facing the wall and closing his eyes against the dim light of the room. After a few moments of shuffling, Josh clicked the lamp off, letting the night suffocate his home. Tyler could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know that this chapter wasn't a whole lot of plot– sorry about that. Thanks so much for the feedback on my last chapter, I really do appreciate it! It was very helpful. Next chapter we start on the "hero's journey," so... get hyped, I guess? Leave a comment if you want!


	8. Sandman

Josh only woke up halfway at first, listening to the creaking of the walls around him, letting himself enjoy the comfort of his own bed in the early hours of the morning, only waking up fully when he heard a rustle of fabric that didn’t come from his own movements. He sat bolt upright, immediately reaching for the knife that he kept on the ground next to his mattress. Then he remembered.

Tyler was sleeping on his couch, curled up under layers of blankets and breathing lightly. He looked peaceful again, just like when Josh had first met him. Normal and out of place at the same time. Josh relaxed and rubbed his eyes, sighing. He laid back down to stretch out his back, then forced himself to stand up and start the day. He wondered if Tyler was like him, always waking up as soon as the sun rose, sleeping as soon as the sun set. There wasn’t much else to do once it got dark anyway.

He walked over to the kitchen area, being careful not to wake Tyler up, and opened up the box lying on the ground. A while back, he’d found this warehouse with tons of bulk food. The box was labeled _Reeses Puffs_ and contained a massive amount of breakfast cereal. Not the most nutritious start to the day, but it made him happy to eat fake peanut-chocolate junk in the morning sometimes.

Breakfast today consisted of stale cereal and a dusty glass of water, but it was life. Every so often, Josh looked up at Tyler whenever he turned over or sighed in his sleep. It was comforting to have him there. It was comforting to know that someone else was alive in the same world he was surviving in, someone who wasn’t insane or diseased or an asshole. Tyler was strange in his own way though, in the way that it took him a few minutes to remember his name.

Josh considered himself to be a patient person. He wanted to believe that he could help Tyler, that he could continue to work with him for a better chance at survival, a better chance at sanity. But if Tyler kept forgetting him entirely, every day, for the rest of their lives… would he really be able to keep doing that? Keep explaining all their days together, all the conversations? He took a bite of cereal and let it dissolve in his mouth. Did it make him an awful person for thinking about it? Another bite. But Tyler said he was remembering more. If what he said was true, about remembering constants in his life, maybe things would be better if Josh became a constant? Another bite. It still wasn’t his choice. Tyler seemingly hadn’t made up his mind yet. He could understand that. It was hard to trust people out here. Everyone had their own motivations. Josh was just an odd-one-out for being motivated by his own desire to have someone to talk to. It wasn’t his fault he was lonely. Another bite, a drink of water. But what was so bad about teaming up with someone? Obviously, if Josh was going to hurt Tyler or rob him or something, he would have done it already. Or, it was obvious to him. He wasn’t planning on robbing Tyler. Though, maybe Tyler didn’t know that.

Tyler’s breathing was getting quicker. Josh remembered their conversation from the first day about dreams. Maybe he was dreaming about spider legs. That was pretty scary, at least when Josh had experienced it.

Another bite, another drink of water. Josh rested his head in his hand, leaning forward onto the table. His focus drifted from Tyler and he wound up staring into space, absentmindedly eating dry cereal on a crooked table. Though Tyler’s new presence in his life was comforting, he still found a way to get anxious about it. Now he would have to justify everything he did, every weird habit he had, every conversation he had with himself. He wasn’t used to other people. Bite. Sip. Ponder.

Tyler woke up with a shout, startling Josh so much that he choked on his water. He watched the panicked face sitting straight up across from him. He watched as Tyler’s fear melted into frustration, as he put his face into his hands and tried to control his breathing. Josh watched him silently, not wanting to startle him any more. Eventually, Tyler looked up. He met Josh’s eye, then looked around at the house he was in, taking it all in. The thinking face had returned. Tyler looked confused again. He looked back to Josh.

“Is this your house?” He asked. Josh was a little taken aback by the question. He wasn’t expecting it to be the first one Tyler asked.

“Uh, yeah. It is.”

“It’ crooked.” Josh resisted the urge to laugh.

“Yeah, I– I know.” Tyler nodded slightly. His muscles were becoming slowly less tense. Josh wondered what he’d dreamt about that made him wake up so suddenly, so scared. Tyler didn’t say anything else, just stared at Josh. Josh cleared his throat. “Do you remember me?” He wondered how many times he would ask that question in the future.

“Kind of. It’s weird. I recognize you, like déjà vu. But I don’t get déjà vu. It feels weird.” Josh let himself get his hopes up for the millionth time since meeting Tyler.

“I’m Josh.”

“Yeah, that sounds familiar.” Tyler rubbed his eyes, and after a pause, asked, “What’s my name?”

“Um. Tyler.”

“Oh. Right. How long…?”

“We met a few days ago.” Josh began his explanation of the days prior. He figured eventually he would have this whole story memorized, day-by-day, just so that he could explain it to Tyler without missing a detail. It was different this time than last time. Tyler didn’t look as confused, as uncomfortable as he had the day before. He looked like he was searching his memory, and every so often he would nod or interrupt, trying to remember what had happened.

“Why did I need a new shirt?”

“Because yours had blood all over it.”

“My blood?”

“No, the raiders blood.”

“From when they attacked me.”

“Yeah.”

“And then at the store… there was a Shadow, right?” Josh was strangely proud of him for remembering. Josh couldn’t tell exactly how much he remembered, though. He looked less tense than the first day. That was a start. After he was finished with his tale of their adventures, Tyler was quiet. Josh didn’t know what to say, so he said the first thing that popped into his head.

“Do you want some cereal?” Tyler looked up at him, at first with a quizzical look, but then he shrugged and got up off of the couch. Josh got him a bowl and a bottle of water, and they sat at the table together, crunching down on dry Reeses Puffs. Eventually, Josh plucked up the courage to ask what he was really curious about. “What was that dream about?” Tyler didn’t look up from his bowl, but his face changed.

“It was stupid. Just a recurring dream or… whatever.” Josh was about to remind Tyler that he said he couldn’t remember his dreams, but then he remembered that Tyler wouldn’t remember ever saying that. But Josh was still curious.

“What about?” Tyler poked at his cereal for a moment.

“It’s…” He poked his cereal again. “So there’s… the ocean, right? And I’m right there, with my hands in the water, and I’m– I’m trying to get as much of it as I can, but whenever I try to get back away from the shore, back to… to wherever I want to go, the water turns into tattoo ink and blood and the sand is all black and there’s eyes everywhere and it all turns red and–“ Tyler cut himself off when he met Josh’s gaze. “It’s just a weird dream.”

“Sounds creepy.”

“Yeah. It is.” Tyler ate another bite of cereal. Josh took another sip of water. They sat in silence, thinking their own thoughts, before Josh finally had a thought worth saying out loud.

“Have you ever been to the ocean?” he asked. Tyler gave him a look, and then sighed.

“I don’t remember.”

“Not at all?”

“No.” Josh hummed in response. “What?” Tyler asked, taking another bite of cereal.

“There was nothing about the sea in any of your notebooks.”

“So?”

“So, how can you dream about the ocean if you’ve never been there?” Tyler swallowed his food and put his thinking face back on. “Maybe that’s where you started out, before… before the whole memory thing happened.” Tyler was still quiet. “Somewhere by the sea.” Still nothing. “It… it could mean answers?”

“What makes you think I want answers?” Tyler snapped. Josh opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Sorry. That was… sorry.” He sighed and poked his cereal with his spoon once again. “I know what you’re implying. You want to go to the sea, to try to-to help me remember or something. Big adventure. Lots of _answers._ ” Josh didn’t know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut. “I might not remember much, but I know what my life is. I know how it works. And staying in one place _works._ Houses are… constant.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest–“

“No, I know, you were just thinking out loud.”

“Yeah.” Tyler sighed.

“Yeah.” There was a silence while both of them sat, not eating their cereal, not talking. Tyler sighed again and rubbed the back of his head. “Now you got me thinking about the sea.” Josh laughed quietly. They went back to eating for a minute before Tyler spoke again. “Hey… are we like… a team? Are we together?”

“Um, you didn’t answer that yet. You were thinking about it, but you didn’t make up your mind.”

“Oh.” Tyler took another bite. Josh wanted to speak his mind. He wanted to make his case, to argue his side of the story. He was afraid to, though. He didn’t want to get Tyler angry with him. He might not find another friendly place in this world. But then, it couldn’t hurt, could it? Josh cleared his throat.

“Can I say something?” His chest clenched with anxiety, but Tyler just looked up at him with a neutral expression and nodded. “I think that we should stay together.” Tyler’s expression didn’t change. “You talk about constants a lot, things that stay the same, and I mean, I know you have your notebooks, and your house, and your lists, but– I don’t know. Maybe I could just be another reminder. An even more _constant_ constant. Maybe it would help. That sounds… selfish, I guess–“

“No, it… it makes sense.”

“Really?” Josh was surprised that any of his ramblings actually made sense.

“Yeah.” He paused. “I think you’re right.” Josh smiled. “But you gotta promise me one thing, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. What?”

“You gotta tell me the truth. Always. No hiding things, no lying… I… I wouldn’t be able to…”

“Oh. Yeah. I promise.” Josh hadn’t even thought about it. He’d considered re-doing conversations, changing his answers sometimes, but Tyler was right. If he wanted to, he could ruin Tyler’s life, manipulate him into doing whatever he wanted, hide anything he wanted to hide. Maybe that was why Tyler was so reluctant to give his final answer. Josh hadn’t thought about that. But he would never do that to Tyler. He’d never do that to anyone. People still deserved dignity, even in this messed up world.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem.” They finished their breakfast, waiting for the sun to fully rise and warm up the wasteland. There was no point in going out while it was still freezing outside. Tyler sat on Josh’s couch and looked through his collection of books. Josh spent a bit looking through his old clothes and supplies, figuring out what he could get rid of now that he had some new stuff. After a while, he put down the old torn up novel he was holding, leaned back on the couch and half-sighed, half-groaned. Josh looked over and raised his eyebrows.

“You still have me thinking about the ocean, man.”

“Sorry,” Josh said, looking back to the old water jug in his hands. He didn’t want to force Tyler to leave the safety of his town, but it seemed he already put the thought into his head.

“What if I do want answers?” Tyler asked, looking over at Josh. Josh looked up to meet his eye. “What if I’m sick of not knowing anything? Of not knowing what even caused all this?”

“I’d… say… that you’re justified?”

“Yeah. I don’t know.” He paused. “Have you ever been to the sea?” Josh couldn’t help but smile.

“I used to live in a secluded community, out on the western shore of the country, right by the sea. It was the first place that we settled down in, my family and I. It didn’t… it didn’t last too long, but it was nice while it lasted, you know?”

“What was it like?”

“The sea or the community?”

“Both, I guess.” Josh had to think a little harder to remember it.

“Well, the water certainly isn’t made of blood and ink.” Tyler laughed, and Josh realized that he would never stop being fascinated by that laugh. To hear someone else’s laugh in this world was a miracle. “It’s… blue. Bluer than anything you’ve ever seen before. And it sparkles, all the time, even at night. It’s amazing.”

“Huh.”

“The secluded community had its issues, but I mean, it was safe. Safer than out here.”

“What happened to it?”

“I don’t really know. I was young. No one would tell me anything. But I remember it was strict, lots of rules about rations and stuff. Tons of laws. The people were nice though, and everyone looked out for each other. Everything smelled like salt and seawater all the time. Then we had to move.”

“And what… what happened to your family?”

“Same thing that happened to everyone’s family. They’re gone now.” Josh didn’t allow any emotion into his voice. He was over it. It was a while ago, and now he was over it. He had to be over it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Josh wondered what happened to Tyler’s family. He wondered what his life was like before whatever injury or accident or event happened to make his mind deteriorate. What kind of person was he? Tyler leaned forward.

“I think I want to go to the ocean.”

“Really?”

“What’s the point of staying here? To just go through to-do lists every single day until I die? Honestly, I’m tired of it. I barely even remember it and I still know that I’m bored. It’s dumb.”

“Adventure for the sake of adventure.”

“Adventure for the sake of answers.”

“Also that.” Tyler laughed dryly, but it was a laugh nonetheless. He leaned back on the couch.

“So how does this work?” Tyler asked, and Josh stopped what he was doing to look up.

“What do you mean?”

“Uh… going… out. Out there,” he jerked his head towards the door. “Into the wasteland.”

“Oh. Well… I mean, first thing’s first, we have to figure out where we’re going. And how far it is.”

“I’ve got maps?”

“You’ve got maps that don’t have any scale to them.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Then there’s the issue of your notebooks…” Josh said, thinking about the stacks of books that were at Tyler’s house. “I mean, do you remember how you’ve traveled with them in the past?”

“Josh, if you start any question with the phrase, _do you remember,_ assume that the answer is _no._ ”

“Right. Yeah. Of course.” Josh ran a hand through his head and it got stuck in the tangles. He wanted to rinse off and get all of the grime off of his skin. “Here’s the thing… there’s a lot of them. I feel like, probably, in the past, you’ve just… lugged them around with you. But if we’re trying to get out to the ocean, that might not be the _best_ idea.”

“You think we should leave them behind.” Tyler’s voice was quiet, and Josh realized very suddenly _exactly_ what he was suggesting. The notebooks were Tyler’s life. He didn’t have memories. They were the only document of _who he was_. “Josh, those notebooks are _me_. They’re all I have.”

“I–I’m not saying to get rid of them. Just to store them somewhere safe. You can keep them here if you want.” He was trying to make his proposition even remotely better. “And we can copy all the important stuff into one notebook and take that one with us, just in case.” Tyler looked anxious, but he also didn’t say anything against the idea. He was silent for a moment, thinking.

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to decide right this second. For now, why don’t we head back to your place and gather up maps and stuff. We can stop back by that department store and get bigger backpacks and survival stuff.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Sick.”

Josh packed up some emergency supplies in a backpack and took a spare bag to carry Tyler’s notebooks, and they set out, walking back to Tyler’s little town. On the way, Tyler asked the same questions he had asked in the days before, about what Josh did for fun and how he’d survived so long in the wasteland. Josh didn’t mind. Tyler often asked questions and then realized that he’d asked them before just by looking at Josh’s reaction to the question. It only took him moments to realize that he was repeating himself. Josh answered the questions anyway. He rambled, as always, but it was worth it to see the smiles that spread across Tyler’s face whenever he told a funny story.

When they got back to the run-down house, after they’d packed up all the maps and notebooks and cans of food that they could carry, Tyler spent a moment standing in the main room of the first floor. He looked at the now empty floor, at the holes in the ceiling, at the dusty windowsills. Josh wondered what was going through his head. He could only guess, as always. This was Tyler’s home, however temporary, however forgotten. Tyler sniffed, cleared his throat, and turned away.

“Adventure,” he said, looking over to Josh, and Josh smiled.

“Adventure,” Josh agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all- it's tech week at my school. I'm the stage manager. The show is this weekend. This is me just letting you know that I'm not posting anything any sooner than this Monday. Just so ya know. Thanks for reading and commenting and giving feedback! You guys are the best! Hope you enjoyed :)


	9. The Divide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow hello! Been a while! (Only like a week, but still.) I'm glad to be back in the groove of writing after a hectic tech week. Hope you enjoy!

The journey away from Tyler’s house was silent. The winds of the wasteland blew around them, pulling at their clothes. Josh was happy that the winter was finally fading. Every so often, Tyler would look back the way they came. Josh wondered what was going through his head.

Tyler seemed to be remembering more. He wasn’t as uncomfortable that morning, and he was opening up faster, remembering things better than before. Maybe Josh’s hopes were well placed; if he became a constant in Tyler’s life, he would be remembered. Even if it wasn’t the conversations they had or the days that they spent together, at least Tyler might remember his face and his name. It was something. It was more than he’d had in a while. It had to count for something. When Josh’s crooked home came back into view, he couldn’t help but smile a little. He still loved the way it looked when it was silhouetted against the sky, falling down into the earth with no one stopping it. It would hurt a little to leave, he had to admit, even if he was only admitting it to himself. But what was life without a little adventure? Especially in this hellhole of a world, there was no point in staying in one place. It was just as dangerous to move around.

While the silence still settled, Josh began formulating a plan. He was an over thinker; he had already come to terms with that. In his head, he began to list everything that the two of them might possibly need, going down the list from essential to non-essential. First off was water, of course. That was sometimes hard to find out in the wasteland. Then there was food, ammunition, weapons. Maybe he would take his rifle. He hadn’t used that in a while. What did Tyler have on him? Maybe he could borrow from Josh. Bedrolls, definitely bedrolls. Extra clothes. Super glue that he’d found a while back in a craft store. Medical supplies, which mostly consisted of band-aids, alcohol swabs, and a needle and thread for stitches.

Tyler looked back the way they came again, for the hundredth time. He had a look on his face that was a mix of dread and regret, and not an ounce of excitement. Josh wondered if this was a bad idea.

He thought about what their path would be. They would have to backtrack through Tyler’s notebooks and maps, figure out where he went last and go from there. From what Josh could remember, the closest place to where they were was the safe house that was in a nearby town, but there was no guarantee that it was still up and running. Safe houses didn’t usually last that long and were almost always overrun by raiders within a year. Sometimes, being nice to other people didn’t pay off. It was a fact of life. Josh glanced over at Tyler. He was looking down at his feet, kicking up dirt. His eyes looked blank. Josh couldn’t help but think that maybe Tyler was zoning out again. He’d done it a few times already, and the last time, he had simply just stopped walking, staring off into space and barely acknowledging Josh’s existence in front of him. But Tyler sighed then and looked up at the crooked house as it was growing closer to them, and Josh’s nerves were put to rest for the time being.

“Convince me that this is still a good idea,” Tyler said. His voice was quiet and nervous and it shook a little. Josh hadn’t realized how upset Tyler was before he spoke. “You did it before. What did you say? I can’t…” Tyler closed his eyes and sighed again before finishing his sentence. “I can’t remember.” He sounded so defeated by just those three words.

“We’re gonna figure out who you were before. Get answers. Figure out what happened to make this all… screwy.” Tyler nodded slowly. “We’ll be careful. And I’ll be with you the whole time. I’m not gonna leave you alone.” This seemed to make Tyler calm down a little. He twisted his hands into each other, wiping away little trails of dirt and grime, but he didn’t say anything. Josh hoped it was enough. “We just gotta grab some supplies from my place, and then we can try to make it to the next town over by nightfall.”

“We’re leaving that soon?” Josh paused, picking his words carefully.

“I’m… nervous that if we wait, you’re going to… you know… forget what we were doing. Forget why you agreed to set out in the first place.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it–it makes sense.” He cleared his throat. “You’re probably right.” They came up to the front door of Josh’s house, and he opened it, letting Tyler go in first.

“I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine, Josh.” Josh let his mouth snap shut, not expecting Tyler to interrupt him so sharply. Tyler sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. I just… I’m serious. You’re probably right. I don’t really remember how I act when I wake up first thing in the morning. And it probably sucks for you when I don’t remember your name or your face or anything.” Josh didn’t answer, but he nodded slightly. “I guess I’m trying to apologize, or something.” Josh walked around Tyler to get back to where he kept his guns and weapons.

“You don’t need to apologize, though. It does suck, you’re right, but it’s not your fault. Maybe we both just have to accept it as fact and move on. It’s like the dust storms. They suck, but we live with them, right?” Tyler didn’t answer, so Josh answered his own question. “Right. Plus, you _do_ seem to be remembering more. I mean, I haven’t known you for that long, but you remembered the Shadow at the sport store, and the raiders, at least a little bit.” Josh picked up the newest rifle that he had, attaching it to one of the outside loops on his backpack. He did the same for a smaller handgun, and a smaller knife, making sure that they were well in place before continuing to pack. Tyler had begun unloading his notebooks onto the floor by Josh’s shelves.

“But that’s just because there’s this _divide_ now.”

“Divide?”

“Before and after. Pre-Josh and post-Josh. All of my memories, the ones that I still have, they just pile on top of each other as like experiences rather than individual memories. The ones with you are different, so right now they’re just in their own pile.”

“But that’s good, isn’t it?”

“What about when I’ve known you for a while? What about when we’ve fought a few more raiders, killed a few more Shadows, had a few more similar conversations? I’ll just lump those all into the same piles, and then it’ll just go back to being as bad as it was before, just a jumble of experiences that don’t even fit together in a linear life, all crushed together like they’re supposed to make sense, but they _don’t_ make sense, not at _all._ ” Tyler had stopped what he was doing and was looking down at the half empty backpack that was sitting on the ground in front of him. Josh finished shoving a pair of jeans into the bottom of his bad and searched his mind for anything encouraging that he could possibly say, but Tyler cut him off before he could think of anything. “No. Sorry. Don’t… it’s fine. I didn’t mean to dump that on you. It’s just stressing me out.” Josh looked back down at his bad.

“That’s understandable.” He couldn’t think of anything better to say. They kept packing until everything that was essential to survival was jammed into some pocket or compartment of one of their packs. Josh’s bag looked a little better armed, with a rifle, two handguns, and a knife tied to the outside. Tyler only had two knives and a gun with no ammo attached to his, and Josh had to remind himself that he never really went out into the wasteland enough to warrant a need for more weapons.

Josh’s house looked a bit more barren than he’d seen it in a while. The shelves that had once held food and water bottles and bandages were now empty, and looked a lot older and less homey than they had before. Josh didn’t know how he felt about the emptiness, but it certainly didn’t make him _happy._ Once he’d made sure that there would be a little extra space in his bag without it being to heavy, he decided to take some of the CDs and cassettes that he’d found, along with the needed platforms to listen to them, and he also took the pair of drumsticks from the basement of the music store a few towns over. You never know when music could come in handy. Plus, if needed, a drumstick could be a weapon. Maybe.

Tyler hadn’t said anything else since voicing his concerns about his memory, and Josh wasn’t blaming him. He was curious to know if that was what Tyler’s train of thought sounded like all the time. He figured it probably got pretty confusing in his head, especially with the added stress of not having his memories in the right order. Josh considered pointing out that maybe it was better to think in the present, live in the moment, and all that– but he reconsidered. Tyler knew his own mind. Josh didn’t want to intrude. He wasn’t some savior, coming to fix Tyler’s mind forever. He was well aware that there was probably nothing that he could do to help in the long run. He just wanted to do what he could.

“Is there anything else we need?” Tyler asked, leafing through the pages of his notebooks. He was sitting on the ground next to his backpack, trying to find any maps that he’d drawn in the pages of his journals.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know how long we’re going to be away from a supply source. I guess we’ll find out at some point if we forgot something.” Tyler laughed, and then tore out a page from an older notebook. “I think our first stop is the safe house that’s right near here. I remember you wrote about it in one of these…” Josh walked over and looked down at the book piles, but Tyler was one step ahead of him.

“This one.” He held out two maps to Josh, one that showed the town that Josh was referring to, and then another that showed how to get there from where they were.

“Yeah. Do you–“ Josh cut himself off. The question he was about to ask was pointless. “Never mind.”

“What?”

“I was going to ask if you knew how far away it was, but…” Tyler smiled and closed the notebook he was holding.

“Course not.”

“Yeah.”

“But I guess we’ll find out. If these maps are accurate, then it’s due east.”

“Makes sense, if you came from the east coast.” Tyler smiled again, and Josh was beginning to realize just how quickly his mood would change.

“What?”

“I just think it’s funny, cus if I came from the east shore and you came from the western shore, then it’s cool that we met each other. We came from opposite sides of the wasteland.” Then Josh was smiling with Tyler.

“You know, my parents told me that there were all sorts of other countries outside of this one, surrounded by these massive oceans. There are people all over the world.”

“Do you think they’re all wastelands, too?”

“I dunno. Maybe.” He paused. “Probably. I don’t think there’s anywhere that isn’t completely bombed to hell or wiped off the face of the earth.”

“Or crawling with Shadows.”

“Yeah, or that.” They both took a second to acknowledge their place in a world that was trying to kill them, and then took another second to accept and move on from that thought.

“If we’re all set, we should get going. I’d rather not get stuck out too late.” Tyler just nodded and picked up the pile of papers that he’d been sorting out on the floor. He picked up the most recent and emptiest notebook, slipped the maps into the front cover, and put the notebook into his pack along with a couple pens. Josh finished zipping up his own backpack and hoisted it up onto his shoulders. Tyler did the same. They made eye contact with each other for a moment before leaving the crooked house.

***

 

The two of them didn’t realize until far too late that the scale that Tyler had applied to his maps was absolutely and completely inaccurate. Josh couldn’t fathom how he’d been so stupid to view the hand-drawn crumpled up papers as though they were just as trustworthy as the maps that he’d seen in the books that his parents had shown him, or the ones that showed all the roads of the wasteland, before it was the wasteland. The sun was setting, and he and Tyler were in the middle of nowhere, with no shelter in sight. They both slowly came to the realization that they weren’t going to make it to the safe house within the day.

Josh let his body come to a halt on its own as he stared up at the darkening sky. He dropped his backpack on the ground, rolling his shoulders as the weight was lifted. They’d been walking for the whole day, mostly in tired silence. When the sun was above them in the sky, they took a break and ate cold soup from an old dusty can, and then kept going. When they spoke, it was Tyler asking about Josh’s life and Josh rambling on, trying to give as much detail as he could. It was Josh resisting the urge to ask Tyler about himself, resisting the urge to ask about his memories and his life. It was Tyler listening carefully, hanging on every word that Josh said, smiling when he told his stories. Tyler had asked the same question twice in a row, _tell me about the sea_. Both times Josh answered, his smile was the same. Josh looked up at where the stars were beginning to peak through the dark blue of the sky above them. Maybe if they’d walked a little faster, they could have made it at least a little closer, but it seemed like for the time being, they were stuck.

Tyler walked forward a few more steps before stopping and turning around to look at Josh. He looked upset. His eyes were tired and his face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat despite the cool winds that blew around them.

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his pack on the ground as well.

“For what?”

“The maps,” Tyler groaned, covering his face. “They weren’t right. Not at all. And now we’re stuck out here and it’s my fault–“

“It’s not your fault, Tyler. You didn’t know that the maps weren’t accurate. It’s not like you had a scale to compare them to when you were drawing them.” Tyler groaned again and rubbed his hands together.

“What do we do?” Josh sighed at the question. He looked around. There was nothing, nothing at all for what seemed like _miles._ Only wasteland, the occasional dead tree and wilted plant, vast expanses of cracked earth. On the horizon, Josh saw what looked like a forest, but it was too far away for them to get to, and he didn’t want to be up and about at night.

“We find a place to camp, I guess. Under a tree, maybe, so we’re not just sitting ducks.” Tyler put on a face like he was avoiding groaning again.

“You think there’s going to be raiders?”

“I doubt it, honestly. Not out here. They stick to cities. But I mean, you never know,” Josh muttered, looking around. The good thing about being away from a city was that they could see someone coming from miles away. The bad thing about it was that someone could also see them from miles away.

There was a small grove of dead, white trees off to their right, so they decided to set up camp there. That way they would be at least a little less noticeable. Josh suggested that they take out their bedrolls as soon as they could while there was still a little light left in the sky and they could see what they were doing. They set up their rolls right next to each other, hoping that they would share at least a little warmth in the cold night. In the darkness, Tyler rummaged around in the bottom of his pack, searching for the oatmeal bars that he’d put there earlier. He kept apologizing for the inaccurate maps, despite Josh’s reassurances that it wasn’t his fault.

Josh watched as he chewed on the bar and took out his notebook, twiddling a pen in his hand as he sat thinking.

“I haven’t written anything down since we met, have I?” He asked.

“I don’t think so,” Josh answered. He couldn’t see Tyler’s face very well in the fading light. The sun set too quickly this time of year.

“Okay. So… I’ll call this _Post-Josh._ Entry number one, I guess. I’ve probably asked this a million times already, but can you walk me through what’s happened since we met?” He sounded like he was in a good mood, which surprised Josh. He just sounded curious. Neutral. Like this was a homework assignment, one like the ones that Josh used to get when he still went to school. A chore that had to be done. Josh obliged.

The air was filled with the scratching of Tyler’s pen. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to where the lines on the paper were. There wasn’t enough light to keep the lines entirely straight, but as long as he got the point across, it seemed to be good enough for him. He wrote fast, too, words appearing out of his pen effortlessly as it glided across the pages, line by line. As Josh was speaking, Tyler would interject his own memories; “And then we went to the river, right?” “After that was the Shadow attack, yeah?” “Then you made me cereal.” Sometimes he got the events out of order, but he still remembered them happening, little blurbs of conversations that he remembered having. Josh was beginning to experience the layered memories as Tyler had described them. Whenever Tyler asked about a conversation, it was always placed in the wrong place in the linear events of time. He was remembering them as if they all happened at once, and every time he and Josh talked about something, they talked about everything at once. Josh didn’t bother to correct him about the little things like that. By the time Josh had finished relaying all their adventures together, Tyler had filled up a few pages, and the sky was completely dark.

They had been talking without looking at each other, both sitting on their own sleeping rolls and staring into the darkness around them. Tyler finished eating his oatmeal bar and crumpled the wrapper up in his hands.

“Do you think it’s bad to litter?” Josh couldn’t hear the crinkle of the wrapper anymore.

“Did you just drop that wrapper on the ground?” Tyler paused.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Do you think it’s bad to litter?” Josh laughed, and he heard Tyler’s bubbly giggle next to him. It made him smile, and he didn’t hold back this time. Tyler couldn’t see how wide he was grinning, so he let himself smile ear to ear.

“I think that the world’s already gone to hell. We couldn’t really hurt it anymore, right?” Tyler hummed.

“In that case, yes, I did just drop that wrapper on the ground.” They laughed again, and when they went silent, the sounds of the night enveloped them; wind through the branches above them, little insects buzzing around them. The heavy feeling of sleep was beginning to sink into Josh’s mind, and with it came the fear that Tyler was going to forget him in the morning. He didn’t want to be forgotten. He could hear Tyler moving around in his bedroll, and when he spoke again, he sounded like he was lying down.

“What kind of answers do you think we’re going to find?” He asked. Josh thought for a moment.

“I’m not sure. Maybe we’ll figure out where your family went. Or if you were with a group before. Maybe someone’s looking for you.” Tyler hummed. “What kind of answers do you _want_ to find?” Tyler was silent for a moment. The wind made the trees creak.

“I want to know what happened to me. I want to know if I was always like this, or if something… if I got into an accident or something.” Josh nodded, despite knowing that Tyler couldn’t see him. “I’ve got this scar on the back of my head.” He could hear Tyler moving around in his bedroll, and he could hear the sound of a hand running through hair. “It’s not really a scar. It’s like, a bump. And it’s been there for a while. I know, because I remember that it’s there sometimes, randomly.”

“It’s a constant.”

“Yeah. I think maybe I hit my head or something. Maybe that’s what happened.”

“Maybe.” Josh settled down into his sleeping roll and stared up at the sky, watching the stars move slowly. He wondered after a while if Tyler had fallen asleep, but then he spoke again.

“Josh, what if I’m a bad person?”

“What?” Josh turned to look at where Tyler was laying, but he could barely make out the shape of his body in the dark.

“What if I was a bad person before? And I just don’t remember it?” Josh rubbed his eyes and looked back up at the sky.

“I think if you were a bad person before, you’d still be a bad person now. And you’re not a bad person now, right?”

“But you don’t know that. What if I… what if I killed someone?”

“Jesus, Tyler–“

“Or what if I was a raider, or a robber, or what if–“

“You haven’t robbed _me._ ”

“That’s not the _point._ ”

“Tyler, we don’t have any answers. Not yet. You can’t worry about that right now, because right now you’re a good person and I see nothing in you that says otherwise. You saved my life yesterday, remember?” Josh regretted using the word _remember_ , but Tyler didn’t immediately reject it.

“Yeah. You’re right. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I know.” There was silence again, and Josh kept watching the stars, waiting for Tyler to say something more. After a while, his breathing slowed, and he made a little clicking sound in the back of his throat with each breath. Josh found himself wishing that he could light a fire just to see how peaceful Tyler looked when he slept.

As he was beginning to drift off himself, he felt a weight fall across him. Tyler had rolled over and rested his head on Josh’s shoulder and his arm on his chest. Josh considered waking him up for a moment. Tyler hadn’t seemed like he was too comfortable with close contact before, and he didn’t want to startle him in the morning, but he decided against it. Tyler was warm, and the night was cold. And he was tired, too tired to even keep his eyes open for much longer. Tyler’s weight felt comforting out in the middle of the wasteland. He felt less alone than he’d felt in years. He felt safe. Sleep washed over him like a wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend of mine requested platonic cuddling, and I had to oblige. If any of y'all have requests, feel free to make them. i'm always in the mood for plot bunnies to throw in here! Hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment if you feel like it :)


	10. Blanks

His memories began vertically, one foot in front of the other, walking along a dirt path that wound around to nowhere. There was nothing in the banks of his mind beyond that path, beyond walking, beyond the half-risen sun that was peaking over the hills in front of him. He had a plastic water bottle in his hand. The world tilted at the suddenness of waking up, and he let his knees buckle and take him to the ground. There were the familiar questions, _where am I? Who am I? What’s going on? Is it safe?_ The answers didn’t come quickly, nor did they come easily. First was a name.

_Josh._

He knew it wasn’t his name.

Then, _Tyler._

That sounded more right. That must be his name. But then who was Josh? And why was he walking in the middle of nowhere? And why was he so tired? He began to remember walking, somewhere else, somewhere with more trees and less cement, and he remembered red hair. Was that Josh? The name seemed to fit nicely in his head, but it didn’t do anything to stop the rest of his questions to stop bouncing around. He looked up at the sky, where the sun was turning the clouds gold, and then to his surroundings. Behind him, he could see a city. Maybe that was where he had come from? He had memories of a city. He didn’t know if it was _that_ city, but it was a city. So then why was he walking away from it? He put his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes as though it would relieve some of his confusion.

Memories were coming back to him slowly, memories of the wasteland, of journals, of his own handwriting. He remembered the way that his mind worked, remembered what life was like. He remembered that he had tattoos, that there was a scar on the back of his right hand. But who was Josh? He looked around like a lost child, wondering what to do next. Where was he walking before? How was he awake, up and moving, without even being conscious of doing so? Why was life so _weird?_ He sat on the ground and picked at the fraying strands at the bottom of his jeans, trying to recall where _home_ was.

When nothing came to him, he stood up, scooping the plastic water bottle off of the ground with him and examining it with tired eyes.

He didn’t have anything else on him, not food or a backpack or a weapon of any kind. It made him nervous, but it also made him think that maybe he hadn’t come from too far away. Maybe he’d find Josh. He wondered if Josh was a good person, or maybe just another raider whose name stuck a little better than most. He got to his feet, testing out the ground beneath him as if it was going to cave in if he stepped to hard. His unconscious mind had been taking him somewhere before, so he figured the only action he could really take was to continue walking in the direction he had been going before he “woke up.” So he started walking again.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard someone yell, way off in the distance to his left. He stopped walking, kicking up a puff of dirt where his shoes scuffed on the ground. He listened. He heard it again, this time louder, this time discernable.

“ _Tyler!”_ That was him. That was his name. Who was yelling his name? Was it Josh? He didn’t want to yell back. Something told him not to. He doubted that it was a rational fear, more paranoia and needless caution more than instinct, but the concept of yelling into the wasteland, of alerting anyone else of his presence, made him uncomfortable beyond compare. The voice sounded again, cracking this time in the middle; “ _Tyler!”_ and then, a little more exasperated, _“What the hell?!”_ He faced the direction of the voice, trying to focus far enough into the distance to see who was calling out to him. He saw a small burst of red in the pale landscape. It felt familiar.

He started walking toward the red. There was nowhere to hide anyway, and he had a feeling that there was no reason to be overly cautious. He doubted that he could be too stealthy when he could barely keep his eyes open. The red was coming closer, and the voice was louder, still calling out for him. He made up his mind to take a risk.

“Josh!” Tyler yelled. There was a certain comfort that he found in hearing his own voice, something predictable. The red froze, and then began running towards him. Tyler sincerely hoped that he hadn’t just given himself up to a raider. As Josh’s face came into clearer view, more memories flooded into his mind, memories of voices intermingling, conversations, hours spent walking silently. There were more specific ones, too. They felt out of place; the glint of a metal blade where it stuck out of a Shadow’s skull, a crooked house sprouting out of the horizon, a giant bag of breakfast cereal.

“Tyler, thank god–“ Josh cut himself off as he got closer and he skidded to a halt in front of Tyler. “You remembered my name. You just remembered my name.”

“Josh.” Josh smiled wide, his tongue peeking out from between his teeth. He had looked ridiculous. He had one backpack on his back, and another backpack on his front, both with weapons tied to them and water bottles and bedrolls hanging off of them, haphazardly tied on. Josh dropped all of the supplies onto the ground and rolled his shoulders.

“Yeah! Holy hell, Tyler, I thought you’d been kidnapped or something. I woke up and you were just _gone._ Are you okay?” Tyler mentally checked himself over. Other than the left over dizziness of waking up so suddenly, he felt fine.

“I’m tired,” he said, not wanting to say anything else about his well being too definitively. Josh sighed. “I think I’m okay.”

“Jesus, Tyler. Where did you go? Why did you leave? Where did you get that water bottle?”

“I don’t know,” Tyler answered honestly. “I just woke up.”

“You were sleeping out here?”

“No. I don’t know. I woke up _walking_.”

“Like, sleepwalking?” Tyler shook his head _no,_ but he didn’t offer another explanation. “Huh.”

“What are we doing out here?” Josh met his eye for a moment before answering.

“What do you remember?” The question frustrated Tyler, but he didn’t know exactly why.

“I remember your hair.” Josh smiled and ran a hand over his head. “I remember… a Shadow. Killing it. And a crooked house, and a big bag of cereal. And raiders. And you… you were with me at a river.” Josh nodded as he searched his mind.

“A bit out of order, but that’s better than before.”

“I don’t think I’m used to remembering things. It’s making my head hurt.”

“You got the gist of it, really. Raiders were attacking you a few days ago, and I shot them. The river thing happened right after that, we were getting water. And then you showed me your notebooks, and we read through them. Ah, then… oh, then was the Shadow. We went to get you a new shirt, because yours was covered in blood–“

“Blood?”

“Not your blood. Raider blood. From that raider.”

“The one that you shot.”

“Yeah, that one. There was a Shadow in the department store, and it almost killed _me_ , but then _you_ killed _it._ So I guess that makes us even.” Tyler smiled. “And then we went back to my house. That was the crooked one, with the cereal.” Tyler smiled again. “And you had that dream, the one you always have about the ocean and the tattoo ink and the blood.” The blood in Tyler’s veins felt like it was frozen. The dream came back to him in an instant, in more vivid detail than real life. Josh paused, watching him carefully. Tyler forced his face back to a neutral expression, and Josh continued. “But we were talking about the ocean. And, uh, I said, _how can you dream about the sea without having seen it_ or something like that, and so we… well, we set out. And here we are.”

“Here we are.” Tyler looked around.

“But then I woke up this morning and you were gone.” Tyler hummed. “Do you remember _anything?_ ”

“No.”

“Yeah. I figured.” Tyler felt his heart sink a little.

“Sorry.”

“No, I didn’t mean– you– sorry. We had a conversation a while ago, and you said something along the lines of _if you start a question with the phrase “do you remember” assume the answer is “no.”_ That’s all I meant.”

“Oh. Yeah, that sounds like something I would say.”

“Still leaves the question of where you went. We’re like… a good few miles away from our campsite.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Tyler looked down at himself. He was covered in dust, and his arms had little trails dragged through them where sweat had run down them. When he thought about it, his legs and feet did feel a bit like he’d been walking for too long.

“How did you find me?”

“You left tracks. Then it got sandy, and the tracks went away, so I just kept walking in the same direction. I guess I got lucky.” Tyler nodded and stared at the ground for a moment.

“There was a city. That way,” he remembered, looking back over his shoulder to see the skyline on the horizon. “I was walking away from it, I think. When I woke up.” Josh considered this for a moment. He brushed some dust off of his shirt.

“Then I guess we’re going back towards the city.”

“I guess.” There was no instinct that was pulling Tyler away from the city. His mind wasn’t always to be trusted, but he figured it wouldn’t fail in telling him where danger was. Josh nudged one of the backpacks toward him with his toe.

“That one’s yours.” Tyler nodded and knelt down to the pack, taking the water bottle off of the outside of it. He was thirsty, but he didn’t trust the one that was in his hands, especially because he didn’t know where it came from. After he had his fill of water, he put the backpack on and stood up. Josh hoisted his pack onto his back as well. They began to walk back, and Tyler took the opportunity to get his memories straight.

“So, we met because you saved me from raiders,” he said. Josh nodded.

“Yep.”

“Why’d you save me?”

“I was lonely.” The immediate response surprised Tyler.

“Really? That’s it?”

“I think it’s a pretty good reason.” Tyler shrugged.

“Okay. So… You saved me. Then… we went to the river?”

“Yeah. You were still trying to hide your memory issue. You said you needed to restock on water.” It went on like that until they got to the city, until Tyler was left with a linear set of events from the moment he met Josh until the most recent issue of Tyler’s wandering off. From what Josh had described, it seemed like this was just another “blank spot,” as he had put it, a time when Tyler forgot a moment as soon as it happened. He’d apparently done it before with conversations, but Josh said he’d never forgotten more than a few minutes. Never hours. Never long enough to walk a few miles to the nearest town. They reached the outskirts of the city.

It felt vaguely familiar to Tyler, the way the vines crept up the walls and moss formed round the cracks in the cement, but there was nothing more specific in his memory. He felt bad that he’d worried Josh enough to make him walk miles to find him, but the feeling was diminished a little with the relief of not being alone. The sun was higher in the sky, and it made the clouds turn a golden gray. They paused for a moment before they walked past the first buildings. Tyler didn’t know what to expect. The city seemed empty, but then again, the entire world seemed empty. Josh had taken the rifle off of the outside of his backpack and was holding it pointed toward the ground, but with his finger ready on the trigger. Every so often, they would hear the scuttling of rats or birds cawing overhead, and Josh would swing his gun up to aim at the noises. Tyler watched him carefully. The nonchalant person from before had disappeared, replaced with a stoic face. He came to the realization that Josh was a survivor. What did that make _him?_ Was he also a survivor?

From the way his heart nearly stopped when someone yelled “ _Hey!”_ at them from the other side of the street, he figured that the answer could very well be _no_.

Josh wheeled around, rifle aimed directly at the person’s head. Not person. People. There were four of them, standing on the other side of the street. Tyler didn’t have the mental capacity to draw his weapon, so he stumbled half a step behind Josh and watched. The one in front put his hands up when Josh aimed his gun at him and they all stepped back a little.

“Woah, woah, hey. Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. We know your friend,” the man in front said. Josh turned to Tyler without lowering his gun. Tyler met his gaze. He didn’t recognize the people, but he didn’t want to say that. He didn’t want Josh to shoot anyone unnecessarily, so he shrugged. The man across the street reacted almost immediately. “Wait, no– hold on, man, we know you!” Josh turned back to the group and adjusted his aim. “You were here last night, don’t you remember us?”

“Prove it,” Josh said. Tyler was taken aback by the darkness behind his voice. The woman who was standing next to the man leaned forward a little and pointed at Tyler.

“We gave him that water bottle. Look,” she said, taking a bottle out of her bag that looked exactly the same. “ _Deer Park_ bottled water. We found a pack of it a few weeks back.” Tyler looked down at the water bottle that was still in his hand. It had the same label on it, peeling off slightly at the top. Josh lowered the gun a little but kept it ready. “Do you really not remember?” The woman was talking directly to Tyler now, and he felt somehow like he needed to apologize to her. He didn’t. He only shook his head _no._ She scratched the back of her neck. Josh glanced at Tyler from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t say anything.

“Look,” the man spoke up again. “Your friend wandered into the city last night while we were setting up camp. He looked a little rough around the edges, so we gave him water, offered him a place to stay. When the sun rose, he just up and left. We’re not raiders or nothing, just trying to get from one place to the next without dying. So I’d appreciate it if you lowered your gun.” Josh hesitated, but pointed the gun back at the ground. The man nodded, and then pulled another water bottle out of his backpack. He walked across the street, followed by the other three people, and held the bottle out to Josh.

“Here. Peace offering.” Josh eyed it carefully. “It’s not poisoned or anything. Still sealed. You can check.” Josh took the water bottle and examined it.

“Thanks,” he said. “How… what happened here? With Tyler?”

“So that’s his name. He couldn’t remember it last night. Or he wouldn’t tell us. Or he’s mute.”

“I’m not mute,” Tyler said, rolling his eyes, and the man put his hands up as an apology.

“Well, you weren’t talking last night. Good listener, though, I’ll give you that. You put up with all of Jack’s stories.” The man jerked his head over his shoulder to the man with the thick beard standing behind him. Josh cleared his throat.

“Daniel,” the man said. “That’s Jack. Sarah,” he gestured to the woman who’s spoken before. She had dark eyes and even darker skin. “And Angelica.” He motioned to the woman who hadn’t spoken yet. She looked young.

“I’m Josh,” he said. “That’s Tyler.” Daniel nodded.

“Um,” Sarah started, “So I guess you don’t remember last night?” Tyler shook his head. “Maybe you were sleepwalking, then. It was pretty late at night. You were acting kinda–“

“I wasn’t sleepwalking,” Tyler said. “I just– I forget things. It’s a memory thing.”

“Oh,” Sarah said, looking over at Daniel.

“He gets blank spots sometimes. We were camping a few miles away, and when I woke up this morning, he was gone. We’re just trying to figure out where he went.” Tyler didn’t know exactly how he felt about Josh explaining his mind for him. He hoped he wouldn’t get into too much detail.

“Well, he was with us for most of the night,” Jack spoke up.

“Let’s get out of the middle of the street. We can talk back at our camp,” Daniel interrupted. “Never know when raiders might come by.” Josh seemed like he agreed, and Tyler welcomed the notion of getting out of the open.

Daniel led his group, Tyler, and Josh down the streets of the city. Josh looked like he fit right in with this group. He had the same tense look on his face, the same rigidness to his shoulders, the same air of caution surrounding him. Tyler didn’t feel like he belonged with the five people he was with. He felt out of place, damned to be confused for eternity. His caution was of a different brand, a brand that told him that anything was possible, to be wary of everything. The scenario that he and Josh were currently in only reminded him of this reality.

Eventually, Daniel led them into a building that was covered in vines, up to the second floor. There were some supplies laid out there, some blankets and food wrappers scattered on the floor, as well as some old chairs that were splintering and pulling apart at the seems. Angelica sat down on some blankets in the corner almost immediately, silently picking up a granola bar off of the floor. Daniel gestured to the chairs. They all settled, Sarah and Daniel on the big old couch in the corner, Jack leaning up against a wall. Tyler sat down in a chair that immediately collapsed, and he found himself sitting on the floor. He sighed and leaned back against the wall behind his back, blinking slowly. He had to force his eyes back open. They were heavy with exhaustion and sleep deprivation. Josh sat down next to him. Tyler looked down at the floor. He felt embarrassed that he was the cause of all of this trouble, that he was the one who wandered off and brought more people into the chaos that was his life. He saw Josh cross his arms in his peripheral vision.

“You still don’t trust us, do you buddy?” Jack said, scratching his beard. Josh looked up at him. “Not that I don’t understand. It’s hard not to be cautious these days.”

“What happened here last night?” Josh asked. Tyler looked up and was met by Sarah’s eye. He looked back down.

“Tyler… walked into us,” Daniel said, “Literally. He ran right into Sarah when we were turning a corner. We thought he was a raider for a second, but, I mean, he didn’t have any weapons on him. We figured he was lost, but he wouldn’t say anything–“

“Seemed really out of it, like he was drugged or sleepwalking or something,” Jack interjected.

“Yeah. When we asked his name he just shook his head, so we got him to come back to our camp with us, to stay out of the open. It was already pretty late at night. Or early. Morning. I don’t know.”

“And you just talked?”

“Well, it wasn’t really a conversation. We told stories trying to get him to say something, and then after we gave up on that, we just talked to each other. Stuff about supplies and where we were headed next, all that. Sarah tried to get him to say something for most of the night until sunrise,” Daniel looked over at Sarah, “But he didn’t say much. Didn’t say anything until the sun came up.” Tyler looked up, eyes half lidded.

“What then?” Josh asked. Daniel paused, and Sarah filled the silence.

“He said he had to find his hometown. He said it only to me. And then he stood up and left. We didn’t want to stop him.”

“Yeah, you creeped us out a little last night, kid,” Jack said to Tyler, smiling. “We didn’t know if you were some kind of…some kind of bomb just waiting to blow. You know. Sometimes people are like that out here.” Tyler didn’t answer.

“You still creep _me_ out,” Angelica said quietly from the ground. She still hadn’t opened the granola bar, and she didn’t look up at Tyler when she spoke. Tyler didn’t know how to take that. He wasn’t intending to be creepy. He was still trying to figure out what his personality _was_ , if he was being honest. Jack, Daniel, and Sarah all looked at Angelica for a moment, but then Jack laughed it off.

“She likes to speak her mind,” he said. Josh raised his eyebrows, but didn’t comment. “She has a point though, kid. You don’t look too hot.” Tyler didn’t directly acknowledge the observation, but he did respond by rubbing his eyes.

“You’ve probably been awake for a while, if you were walking all day, and then with us all night,” Daniel said. “We have to do supply runs. This building locks on all doors, so if you want, you can stay here for a while where it’s safer?” Josh opened his mouth to answer, but Tyler beat him to it.

“That sounds great,” he said. Even his voice sounded more out of it than before. “Thanks.” He looked at Josh, who was already looking back at him. “I’m tired,” he said, and Josh’s gaze softened a little.

“We can talk more when you’re… more awake,” Daniel said, standing up. Sarah stood up with him. “If you have questions or anything, I mean.” Sarah nudged Angelica on the shoulder to get her to stand up, but she didn’t move. “You can just… make yourself at home. We’ll be back in a few hours. Not that you have to wait for us or something.”

“Come on,” Sarah said, and Angelica finally stood up. They started walking out of the room. On their way out, Angelica gave Tyler the coldest stare he could ever remember receiving. He didn’t know what he did to deserve her hatred, but it made his chest tighten a little. When he and Josh were finally alone in the room, he could see Josh’s muscles relax, see his face return to the soft expression that he found familiar.

“I don’t know if you know this, but this is a weird situation,” Josh said.

“I’m aware.”

“Not just the memory thing. The… the _staying in someone else’s camp_ thing, too.”

“I’m tired, Josh. I can’t keep my eyes open, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t actually sleep last night, based on this whole sequence of events that we’ve just been told.” Josh nodded, and Tyler began unpacking his sleeping roll. When he had it set up, Josh spoke again.

“Hey, um… can I see your notebook?” Tyler looked at him, but he didn’t answer. “I want to write down everything that’s happened. I mean, if anything happens, you’re gonna want to have it all in one place. I can write while you sleep.” Tyler considered it for a moment. One part of him wanted to keep the notebook for himself while another part of him was reminded that he’d already shown Josh everything that he already had written down. Finally, he shrugged.

“I guess,” he said, and dug around in his bag, finding the notebook and a pen deep down at the bottom where they’d fallen down while walking. He handed them to Josh, and Josh took them as though they were fragile, as though they would shatter if he held them the wrong way. It made Tyler feel better about giving the notebook to him.

“Thanks.” Josh opened the journal and stared at the blank page for a moment, presumably figuring out where to begin. Tyler didn’t care where he was going to begin. He laid down in the bedroll, let his thud head against the ground, and fell asleep only moments later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some fun stuff, good times, confusing memories. this is fun to write, honestly. Hope you enjoyed! Leave feedback if you want?


	11. Strange Encounters

Tyler was still asleep when Daniel, Sarah, Angelica, and Jack came back. Josh was sitting on the ground drawing a rough map into Tyler’s notebook of where they’d come from, and he was comparing them to the other maps to try to figure out exactly where they were. Daniel poked his head through the door and Josh looked up at him, then back to Tyler.

“Got it,” Daniel whispered, opening the door slowly. He turned and motioned a hand behind him for the other three to follow him. “Still asleep, huh?” He said quietly. Josh looked over at Tyler. He was curled up, half inside the sleeping roll and half outside of it. His breath rattled a little bit when he inhaled. Josh resisted the urge to smile.

“Yeah,” he said. He looked back to the map he was drawing and at the maps that surrounded him where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor. Jack set his bag down gently on the floor and wandered a little closer, looking over Josh’s shoulder, but Sarah was the one to ask the question he had on his mind.

“What are you doing?” She said quietly. A second later, Angelica let her backpack slip from her shoulder, and it hit the ground with a sharp thud, and Sarah whirled on her, giving her a look that would rot wood. Josh looked over at Tyler, but he barely even seemed to notice the noise. He elected to answer Sarah’s question.

“Drawing maps. Writing stuff down. Tyler… he doesn’t really remember things like we do.”

“So it’s like a diary?” Jack asked, leaning forward a little.

“I guess. It’s mostly just the important stuff, though.”

“And you do it for him?” Daniel asked, listening in on their conversation while unpacking some cans from his backpack.

“No,” Josh sighed, shaking his head. “But he seemed tired, and I didn’t want him to worry about it before he slept.” Daniel nodded and examined the label on a can.

“Hey, Jack, do you think expiration dates still matter?” he asked.

“Is it sealed?” Jack questioned back at him.

“Uh… seems like it.”

“It’s probably fine.” Daniel looked at the can, shrugged, and put the can down on the ground, unloading another one from his bag and reading the label.

“So,” Sarah said, pausing to look at the newest landmark that Josh was drawing, “He really doesn’t remember last night?”

“Don’t take it personally,” Josh mumbled, scratching his head. “There’s a lot he doesn’t remember.”

“What happened?” He shrugged.

“I don’t know. I only met him a week or so ago, and he doesn’t remember what happened, so…”

“It’s just gone, then.”

“Yeah.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah.” They both jumped when Daniel knocked over a can. He stopped it from rolling away and gave them a sheepish look. Jack brought his backpack over to the sleeping mat that was nearest to Tyler.

“He’s a heavy sleeper, that’s for sure,” he said, leaning his backpack against the wall. He bent over, trying to dig something out of one of the side pockets. When he couldn’t find it, he switched over to the other side. “That might not be the best thing to be in _this_ world–“ Josh could see the events unfold in front of him in near slow motion. As soon as Tyler’s eyes flicked open, he figured there was a limited number of outcomes. Jack was too close for comfort, and it was clear on Tyler’s face. In essence, Josh predicted either fight or flight. Tyler would either try to get away, which would turn out to be the least problematic response, or he would try to get Jack away from him with force. He watched as Tyler picked the latter, as his fist clenched and his arm came up and his hand connected with the side of Jack’s jaw.

Within the moment, Josh was lurching toward Tyler, grabbing onto his wrist just to be sure that he wouldn’t try anything else. He heard the familiar click of a gun and looked over to see Angelica holding a pistol in her hand, safety off, but pointed at the floor. Tyler had his eyes open wide, pupils small, breathing panicked. Josh sorted through his priorities and decided he would let someone else deal with Angelica.

“Tyler?” He said softly. Tyler’s eyes flicked to Josh, and he held eye contact. He didn’t recognize him. Josh could tell he was searching the banks of his memory for anything, but there was nothing for him to find. Not yet, anyway. He could do it. Josh knew he could. “Tyler, do you remember me?”

“I…” Tyler looked over to where Josh was holding his wrist rigid, where his own knuckles were beginning to bruise from the punch he’d thrown. He looked at Jack, who was holding his chin in his hand with Daniel standing right next to him. All eyes were on him. Sarah had taken the gun from Angelica. Then he brought his eyes back to the moment. “Josh,” he said, and both his and Josh’s muscles relaxed a little. Josh sighed.

“Yeah,” he said, loosening his grip on Tyler’s wrist. “Do you remember where we are?” Tyler looked around at the people in the room and then nodded slowly. “Are you sure?” His eyes flicked back to Josh, and he pulled his wrist away. Everyone in the room was still watching him, and he seemed to be realizing it.

“Yeah.” The statement sounded almost offended. Josh leaned back, letting Tyler have his space. Tyler looked over at Jack and Daniel and then wrung his hands. “I hit you,” he said, running his fingers over the knuckles on his right hand.

“Helluva swing, kid,” Jack responded, answering the question indirectly.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said. “I didn’t mean to hit you, you just…”

“I’m pretty sure you _meant_ to hit me,” Jack said, smiling. Tyler looked confused for a moment, but then shook his head.

“I didn’t mean to hit _you_ ,” he said. Jack rubbed his chin and opened and closed his jaw. Daniel watched him with worry in his eyes, and Josh wondered if the same worry was in his own eyes when he watched Tyler.

“I know,” Jack said, still smiling. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to get that close to you. It was my bad.” Tyler shook his head, but didn’t say anything. Josh didn’t know what to say. He wanted to make sure that Tyler really _did_ remember, like he said he did. He wanted to make sure that he was okay, that he was _feeling_ okay. But he also didn’t want to embarrass him in front of these strangers, or let loose anything that Tyler didn’t want to share. So he kept his mouth shut.

“What time is it?” Tyler asked, looking up through the long window in the room. The sun was streaming in, heating the room little by little as the day went on.

“A little after mid-day,” Sarah said. They were all still watching him as though he was going to spontaneously combust. Josh wanted to tell them to knock it off with the bug eyes and the frozen stances, but he stayed silent. Tyler didn’t seem to notice, though. He sat up straighter, rubbed his eyes, and stretched.

“We should probably start moving again then, right?” Tyler asked, looking over at Josh, the down at the map. “Where are we?” Josh scratched his head and looked at his own handiwork. Sarah walked over to help Daniel continue unloading the supplies that they’d found.

“We’re…” Josh realized that he didn’t want to give away where they were going to a group of strangers they’d only just met. “We’re _here_ ,” Josh said, pointing to the map and angling it towards Tyler. If Josh was right, they’d walked pretty much due north for a few miles and hit the town that was nearest to the city that had the safe house in it. Now that Josh had a feel for the scale that Tyler used in his maps, he knew that they could get to the safe house by dark. He watched as Tyler examined it, hoping that he would get the hint that he didn’t want things to be said out loud. Tyler’s eyes flicked over the map quickly, and he nodded.

“Sick.” He looked over at Jack again, who was still holding his chin in his hand but now looked less shocked.

“But I don’t think we should lose more daylight, if you’re feeling up to walking–“ Daniel cut him off.

“If you’re gonna head out soon, then I want to ask about a trade.” Josh raised his eyebrows but didn’t answer. “We’re short on medical supplies. Very short. We’ll trade you food, water if you want?” Josh looked at Tyler, but Tyler just shrugged.

“Hold on a sec,” Josh said. He began rummaging through his backpack. Tyler nudged his own backpack towards Josh to let him look through that one, too, without remembering that all the medical supplies were packed into Josh’s bag. Josh humored him, though, and searched through Tyler’s anyway.

He took stock of what they had. Josh didn’t tend to get injured too much in his time in the wasteland, so his house had a surplus of supplies. They hadn’t taken everything, of course, but they had a lot. They could spare _some,_ right? They didn’t exactly _need_ food or water, but it was always good to have backups of the essentials.

“It’s a deal,” he said, pulling out some antibiotics, bandages, and a half-full med kit. Daniel rolled him four cans of soup and four water bottles, which Josh packed down where there was new space left over. “Are you good to get going?” He asked Tyler, who cracked his neck before responding.

“Sure.” Josh was well aware that the other four people in the room were watching him and Tyler pack up their things. Tyler was still moving cautiously, as he always did when he woke up, but he didn’t seem too confused about what was going on. It made sense, considering he’d only slept for a couple hours rather than the whole night. Tyler spent a few minutes trying to dust off his clothes. Walking around all night certainly hadn’t helped him keep his clothes fresh. After a moment of watching Tyler try to clean himself off with his hands, Angelica stood up abruptly.

“Let me see your map,” she said in a monotone voice. Josh had long since decided that he didn’t trust Angelica. When he held the map firmly in his hands, unmoving, she rolled her eyes and picked up the pencil off of the ground by her feet. “There’s a river. Here.” She drew in a faint line between the two cities on the map, the one they were in now and the one that they were going towards. “You should wash off. You both smell like ass.”

“ _Angelica,”_ Sarah warned.

“What?” Sarah stared her down, and she rolled her eyes. “I’m being _helpful.”_

“Thanks,” Josh said, plucking the pencil out of her hand and putting it into the front pocket of his bag. She rolled her eyes again and went back to where she was sitting. Tyler pulled his backpack up onto his shoulders, and Josh did the same.

“Have a… safe trip, I guess,” Daniel said. He stuck out his hand and Josh shook it, but Tyler hung back.

“You too,” Josh responded.

“Keep track of that one,” Jack said. He was still rubbing his chin subconsciously, and Tyler smiled apologetically at him.

“I will.” Josh led the way through the doorway, followed closely by Tyler, and Daniel walked behind them a step or two. Josh felt like a houseguest at some party, the last to leave. He felt awkward. They stepped through the threshold and out into the hall. “Thanks for the hospitality,” he said.

“No problem,” Daniel sighed. He began to close the door, and Tyler waved at him while it shut. When it clicked, Josh and Tyler looked at each other with the same look of anxiety and relief. Through the wood, they heard Jack speaking.

 _“Well, that was fuckin’ weird.”_ Josh had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, and Tyler sucked in a breath so he wouldn’t giggle. They made their way back through the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door. Josh looked back up at the window to the room they’d been in to see Angelica peering down at him. He looked back to Tyler.

“That _was_ pretty weird,” he muttered, and they started walking down the street.

“Sorry,” Tyler said.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I feel like this was my fault,” he said. “I don’t know.” Josh shrugged and adjusted his backpack strap.

“It’s not your fault that your brain messes with you sometimes.” Tyler hummed. “That girl, Angelica, though. She was… _phew._ ”

“Which one was Angelica?”

“The silent one.”

“Oh yeah.”

“She pulled a gun on us when you punched Jack, you know.” Tyler looked Josh in the eye to make sure that he was telling the truth.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I think Sarah took it from her, though.” Tyler raised his eyebrows and looked back to the street.

“Damn.” Josh just nodded. Their feet made little echoes ricochet against the buildings towering around them, and he made a conscious effort to walk a little lighter. “We should go to that river, dude. I feel nasty.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that one,” Josh said. He’d caught a whiff of his own sweaty shirt while they were still in the building, and it wasn’t exactly ideal.

The river wasn’t as far away as Josh thought it was, further disorienting him in regards to the scale that the maps were drawn in. Maybe that meant that the cities also weren’t too far apart. It seemed that Tyler had just drawn things onto his maps in the general direction of where landmarks were with no worry about how far apart they were. There was no use in complaining about it now, but it was a little frustrating. The river that Angelica had drawn in was wider and clearer than the one that Josh was used to going to. He hoped that it was deeper, too. In the river by his and Tyler’s houses, the river was shallow, and if anyone wanted to bathe in it they had to lie all the way down in the water to submerge themselves. Tyler dropped his backpack on the bank and was peeling his shoes off almost as soon as he saw the water.

Josh was tempted to jump right in the water and hope that it was deep enough that he wouldn’t break any bones, but he wasn’t _that_ stupid. After stripping down to nothing but their boxers, he and Tyler both stepped into the water and shared the same cringe when they realized that it was freezing cold. Josh stepped forward another step and sunk down at least three feet, right up to his torso. He let out an extraordinarily high-pitched yelp and raised his arms over his head as Tyler laughed at him from the shallower water. Josh lunged forward and grabbed him by the ankle, dragging him forward into the deep part, too. His head plunged under the water when he tripped and he burst back up from the river gasping and laughing and coughing, all at the same time.

“Oh, _screw_ you!” He said, his teeth chattering. Josh just cackled.

“You’re the one who wanted to wash off.” Tyler groaned loudly and crossed his arms over his chest. Josh started rubbing the layers of dirt off of his arms, watching as little clouds of mud drifted off of his body. Tyler let his teeth chatter for a few more seconds before doing the same, and then dunked his head under the water to wash his hair. They splashed water at each other for a while, getting used to the cold temperature. Josh had goose bumps covering his arms and he felt like every nerve in his body was on fire with the frozen water surrounding him, but it felt good to watch the dust and grime wash away in the river. Eventually, he trudged back over to the shore and got his and Tyler’s clothes, bringing them into the river with them so that they could wash those off as well.

Tyler’s clothes were significantly dirtier than Josh’s. His jeans produced their own personal cloud of mud in the water when Tyler started swishing them around, and it only served to remind Josh further of the fact that Tyler had wandered miles away in the middle of the night. Maybe this was why Tyler didn’t like to travel. Maybe he knew better without knowing _why_ he knew better. It was dangerous. Josh didn’t want to point it out, but if he’d run into someone who wasn’t friendly, someone who didn’t care much for human life, Tyler could easily have been killed. There were all sorts of people out in the wasteland. He’d just gotten lucky to meet people who didn’t want to tear his head off as soon as they saw him.

Every so often, Tyler would dunk his head back under the water or get his arms wet again, trying to keep his body accustomed to the cold. Josh knelt in the water, letting his entire body be submerged except for his head. He washed his clothes just beneath the surface of the river, swirling them around and rubbing the fabrics against each other. He looked up at Tyler, who was doing something similar with his own clothes, but something on Tyler’s back caught Josh’s eye.

At first he thought it was just a trail of mud and water running down his back, but it didn’t look right. He stood up all the way in the river, letting the trickles of water stream down his skin, and stepped forward to put his hand against the mark without thinking. His fingers brushed against the raised skin there and Tyler froze.

“You have a scar here,” Josh said quietly. He moved his hand a little bit, tracing an inch or two down the pink skin. “A huge scar.” It was thick across and went all the way from the base of Tyler’s neck down sideways across his spine and ending just above his hips.

“I do?” Tyler said. Finally, he pulled away from Josh’s hand and tried to reach his back with his own fingertips. Josh took his hand and guided it to the lower half of the scar, and Tyler froze once again. “Woah.”

“You had a list of scars in one of your notebooks,” Josh said, letting go of Tyler’s hand. “This one wasn’t on it.” He wanted to ask the question, the _do you remember_ question, just to know that the answer was what he knew it was going to be, but he kept his mouth shut. It was just going to annoy Tyler if he asked. He knew better now. Still, the curiosity was getting to him. Even _Josh_ didn’t have any scars that big, and he was an absolute idiot when he first started living in the wasteland.

“Weird,” Tyler said bluntly, letting his hand fall away from the scar. “I didn’t even know that it was there.” Josh watched Tyler, waiting to see what he would do next. He didn’t know what to say. Eventually, Tyler just shrugged. “Weird,” he repeated, and dunked his head under the water once again. When he popped back up again, he found Josh still staring at him. “What?”

“Nothing. Sorry,” Josh answered quickly, pulling his eyes away from Tyler.

“I don’t remember what it’s from. I’m never going to remember.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?” Josh looked back at Tyler again.

“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to look at you like anything.” It was Tyler’s turn to stare Josh down now. Josh felt his chest tighten with anxiety. He felt like he owed Tyler an answer to a question that was never asked. “I was just– it’s a big scar. I was trying to figure out where it might have come from. And you’re being really… I don’t know.”

“What?”

“You’re being really chill about it.”

“Well, I don’t know where it came from–“

“No, I know, I just– never mind. Sorry.” There was a silence long enough to make Josh’s anxiety even worse. Eventually, Tyler sighed.

“Sorry. I’ve just… come to terms with my own memory. I don’t question things anymore, I guess.” He flicked some water off of his arms. “Maybe we’ll find the answer when we get to the ocean.”

“Maybe,” Josh said. He plunged his head under the water to try to get himself out of the conversation, even for just a moment. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, hear the water rushing all around him. Around Tyler, he felt like he was always dancing around the difficult topics, avoiding the questions that he really wanted to ask. Tyler was blunt. He knew who he was and he spoke his mind. Why couldn’t Josh be like that? He let some bubbles escape from his mouth and felt them as they passed his face, carried away by the river’s current. He hadn’t had anyone to talk to in too long. He hadn’t had a friend, someone who he could trust. He didn’t want to mess it up, not after waiting this long for any kind of connection. He pulled his head out of the water, and his cheeks burned a little as the cold numbness left his skin. Tyler had gone back to rubbing the dirt off of his clothes. Josh shook out his hair and did the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good stuff, good stuff (hopefully?). This fic is really fun to write. I hope it's also fun to read. Leave any questions, comments, or concerns. Or ideas of little plot bunnies that you want to happen. Tbh, I'm open to anything. Thanks for reading!


	12. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little warning for gore in this chapter? Not too much, but it's there. Enjoy!

Josh wouldn’t deny that the situation was awkward. After bathing, they’d transported their stuff to the other side of the river, carrying backpacks high above their heads so nothing would get wet. Tyler hadn’t spoken another word since they’d dried their skin off and put some dry clothes on. He put on a funny look when Josh put his t-shirt on over his wet shoulders, but he didn’t say anything. They hung the wet clothes off of the back of their bags. Josh looked over the map to figure out where they needed to be going, and Tyler looked over his shoulder silently.

The two cities were fairly close together, separated by an expanse of cracked earth and skeleton trees. The air was gray. They’d been lucky enough to have warmer weather for a while, but now there was a nip in the air. Josh hoped it wouldn’t start raining. He could see little drips of hair dye running down his face and getting onto his shirt. It smelled like chemicals and vanilla, and he loved it. A while ago, he’d found a bunch of box dyes and bleaching kits in a drug store a few towns over from his house, and he was ecstatic to try them out. The red was slowly fading, but it still shone brightly in the sun, and it made him stand out in the pale winter.

The next town that they encountered was significantly more spread out and close to the ground than the city that Tyler had wandered into the night before. Josh wondered what it looked like before the wars and the disasters and the storms that had leveled most of the country. Maybe the windows were clear and new, and the bricks all laid flat on the ground, and the buildings were straight and coated in fresh paint. Now there were vines growing up the sides and sinkholes lining the edges of the streets. Josh watched the windows, trying to make sure that they weren’t being watched, weren’t being followed. Josh jumped when Tyler spoke.

“Are you mad at me?” Josh looked at him but didn’t stop walking.

“No?”

“Oh. Okay.” Josh didn’t know what to say. “Are you sure?”

“Why do you think I’m mad at you?”

“I don’t know. You’re being all quiet and frown-y.”

“So are _you_.” Tyler looked down at his feet.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you before. I’m not used to talking about myself, I guess, and when you asked about– about the scar… I don’t know. It was weird.”

“To be fair, I’m not used to talking in general.” Tyler smiled and breathed out a laugh. “I don’t really know _boundaries_ anymore.” He took his backpack off of his shoulders and reached into the front pocket, pulling out a water bottle.

“I don’t think it’s a _boundary_ , really, I just– I don’t know, I guess it’s the speculation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t– I’m not–“ Tyler clicked his teeth together, trying to figure out exactly what he was trying to say. Josh waited patiently. “There’s a really, _really_ small chance that I’m going to remember where the scar came from, right? Maybe when we get to the ocean, all of my memories will come flooding back, and I’ll suddenly know who I am again, but… not to be pessimistic, but I doubt it. So then all there’s left to do is guess, but inevitably, I’m going to forget all about the scar and all about the story that we made up for it and it’s just going to be another thing that’s gone.” Josh opened his mouth to answer, but Tyler kept on talking, looking at his feet. Josh watched him. “And now I’m realizing that it’s sort of selfish to think like that, because then every conversation that we have is rendered pointless on the basis that I’m going to forget it, but you waited this long to have someone to talk to and for– for someone to really have a _connection_ with, and you get _me_ , and I have to try hard just to remember how we _met–“_ Tyler was talking progressively faster and faster, wringing his hands and running his fingers over the three thin lines of black ink that encircled his wrists. Josh opened his mouth again to talk, but Tyler started another train of thought. “And the thing is, this is just how I’m used to thinking, it might not even be who I really am but I’ve _trained_ myself to be this– this negative person, and these pessimistic things are the first things I think to say and I’m not used to having someone else to correct that, but _you_ don’t know that because we just met a couple days ago–“

Tyler was finally cut off, but it wasn’t by Josh’s voice. A gunshot rang out through the streets, and it took Josh a moment before he felt the pain strike through his side. A million thoughts flashed through his head. Why hadn’t he been more careful? Who was he, letting himself get distracted, and in a new town full of risk. He fumbled for his rifle, trying to pull it free from his bag. When it got stuck on the tie line, he pulled his handgun off of the other side of the pack and spun around just in time to see a pale-skinned woman in full-body army gear plunge a knife into the muscle of Tyler’s shoulder and pin him to the ground. The man behind her aimed his gun at Josh in the same moment that Josh aimed at him. The last echoes of the gunshot still rang in his ears. There was silence for a moment before Tyler took a gasping breath, and Josh glanced at the woman, watching as she flexed her muscle and dug the knife in a little deeper. Tyler’s eyes were scrunched up, his face pressed against the cement road with one arm pinned underneath him, the other at his side, and Josh didn’t know what to do. The woman spoke.

“Here’s how this is going to go. You give us your weapons and backpacks, and you get to live. You shoot my friend, I kill your friend. You shoot me, my friend kills you.” Josh looked at Tyler’s backpack where it lay on the ground in front of him, the open water bottle gurgling out onto the cement until it was empty.

“And what if I shoot you both?” Josh asked, letting his voice dip a little lower in his chest. The woman rolled her eyes and pulled a gun out of her back pocket, pressing the barrel against Tyler’s temple. “I dare you to try it.” Josh forced himself not to shiver at the chill in her voice. Josh could feel blood beginning to trickle down his side. He was tempted to look down and see just how much damage the first shot had done, but he refused to take his eyes off of the raiders. His focus flicked between them. The woman changed her grip on the knife in her hand, and Tyler sucked in a breath. Josh couldn’t help but see the similarity between this and the first time that they met, except for now, it was different. Now, Josh really _cared_ whether or not Tyler died. He wasn’t just another passing face in the wasteland, another person to be wary of, another potential betrayer. He was important now, important enough that Josh’s chest ached when he saw the blood beginning to spread from Tyler’s shoulder blade, important enough that he was truly considering just giving up, letting the raiders take their things, because nothing was worth the risk of seeing Tyler dead on the ground with a bullet through his skull.

“Fine,” Josh said after an achingly long time. The woman smiled like a snake eased up pressure on the knife, and Tyler breathed a little deeper.

“Wonderful. Drop the gun.” Josh clenched his teeth, but did as she said. The metal clicked against the road when he let it fall from his fingers. “Now the backpack.” Josh let it fall from his shoulders and slide to the ground where it landed with a thud. He was furious. He could feel every instinct in his body itching to defend himself, itching to defend his property, the things he’d spent days scavenging. “Now that wasn’t too hard, was it?” Josh clenched his teeth so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if they cracked. The woman returned her gun to her back pocket, and looked over at the man in front of Josh. She nodded, and the man smiled.

In that moment, Josh wondered why he would ever trust a raider to keep their word. The man clicked the safety off, brought the gun up to aim at Josh’s head. They were going to die here. Killed by raiders, miles from home. Josh felt his anger replaced by fear, by terror. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want–

There was a gunshot. It echoed through the streets in the same way as the first, slowly fading into the distance. Josh waited for the pain to spread, for the blood to begin dripping from between his eyes, but nothing of the sort came for him. Instead, the blood dripped down between the eyes of his aggressor.

The man crumpled as though the bones had left his body. Josh didn’t question it. He didn’t have time. As the woman began to pull the gun back out from her pocket, he picked up his own gun from the ground and shot her through the neck. For the second time that week, Tyler’s shirt was covered in blood that wasn’t his own. Josh watched her fall to the ground, watched her as the light left her eyes and the blood left her veins. He watched to make sure her breaths stopped and her muscles stopped twitching. It wasn’t until she was completely still that he finally dropped his aim and ran to Tyler.

He had himself propped up on his hands and knees, his right arm held close to his body. There was only a little blood around the knife. The majority of the red stains on his shirt came from the blood the woman’s neck had sprayed when the bullet cut into it. He was breathing quickly, not able to get enough oxygen into his lungs. Josh felt the same way. His hand felt numb when he put it on Tyler’s left shoulder. Tyler flinched and looked up at him, his eyes unfocused.

“It’s okay. They’re dead.” There were little drips of blood speckled on Tyler’s pale face like sun freckles. Tyler didn’t say anything. He seemed like he was looking right through Josh, not making eye contact. Josh put a hand to the side of his face, cold fingers touching warm skin. Tyler slowly brought Josh’s face into focus. “They’re dead,” Josh repeated. Tyler nodded slowly, pulling himself up to sit on his heels and take the weight off of his shoulders. “There’s a knife in your back,” Josh said. The feeling was slowly coming back to his hands and lungs.

“Oh,” Tyler said, not making any effort to remove the intrusion from his shoulder. The fear was beginning to leave Josh’s mind. They were safe. They were safe. If he repeated it enough times to himself, it would remain true. He wanted to scream. “Josh,” Tyler said. He wasn’t looking at Josh anymore. He was looking past him again, but this time, it was with purpose. Josh turned to see a figure jogging toward them down the street. In a split second, he had his gun raised, positioning himself in front of Tyler, who remained sitting. As soon as Josh took aim, though, the person faltered and put their hands in the air.

“Wait, wait! Don’t shoot! I’m the– I’m the one who shot the raider, don’t shoot!” Josh didn’t lower his gun. The voice was high pitched and young, and it reminded him of his sister. He shook the thought from his head as soon as it intruded. The girl spread her fingers out, waving them in the air. “No weapons anymore, see? I’m not going to hurt you.” Josh kept his gun raised. “That’s… “ The girl leaned a little to the left, peeking around Josh. “You’re Tyler, right?” Josh’s aim lowered. He glanced behind him. Tyler was looking at the girl, his expression still half-glassy. The girl was still walking slowly towards them. “I know you. Well, I don’t _know_ you, but Maya, my girlfriend, she runs this safe house on the other side of town, and she’s got all these pictures taped up on the walls of our house, and yours is one of them– you really haven’t changed much since then, you know–“

“Who are _you?_ ” Josh asked, his gun still ready in his hands. She slowed down.

“I’m Katie. Sorry. I should have started with that. I… I was camped out in the building right there,” she pointed behind Josh, but he didn’t turn around to look where she was pointing, “Keeping an eye out for travelers, and I heard you two talking. I shot the guy with the gun. He was going to shoot you. You really can’t trust raiders, you know.”

“I know,” Josh said. Tyler spoke up from his position on the ground.

“You have my picture on your walls?”

“Several of them, actually. She said that you’re very photogenic, and I believe her. She’s told me a lot about you. I never thought that I’d ever meet someone who stayed at the safe house again, though. People don’t usually come back, you know? Not in this day and age.” Josh let his gun come to rest at his side, and Katie took this as a cue to step closer before she paused. “I, um… I just realize that you have a knife in your back,” she said, looking at Tyler. Tyler looked up at her.

“Yep,” he said, and Josh worried about how _okay_ he was with that fact. Maybe something was wrong.

“I can take that out for you, if you want. I was a nurse a while back in Slowtown–“

“Back where?” Josh asked.

“Slowtown.” Josh raised his eyebrows, and she seemed to suddenly realize that repeating the word didn’t answer his question. “Oh. Right. It’s a small town up north, _way_ up north. I left ‘cus it was too snowy. Like, this one winter, we got a full _foot_ of–“

“Can you just,” Tyler interrupted, “Can you just take it out. Please.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” Josh looked down at Tyler, then back to Katie, and then stepped out of the way. “Do you have a towel, or a t-shirt or something? A rag?” Josh walked over to his backpack and pulled out a gray t-shirt, one of the old ones with holes in it that he’d pulled from the drawers back at his house. He tossed it to Katie, and she smiled. How could anyone smile that easily out here? She walked around to stand behind Tyler, and Josh saw his muscles tense. They looked at each other for a moment, waiting. She poked at the edge of the blade where it sunk into muscle, and pulled Tyler’s shirt up away from his skin, tearing a hole in it until it was wide enough to get up over the knife without touching it. She pushed the shirt up to his neck, and Tyler reached up to hold it there with his good arm. “This is gonna hurt a little. The blade is ridged, so–“

“Just get it over with,” Tyler muttered, and she nodded.

“Okay. I’ll… I’ll count to three, okay?” Tyler nodded. “One–“ she yanked the knife straight out of Tyler’s shoulder and pressed the t-shirt down where the metal once was. Tyler had his mouth hanging open in a silent scream, eyes closed tight. He leaned forward, away from the pressure that Katie was putting on his back, but she followed him with the t-shirt in her hand. Finally, he sucked in a breath.

“Holy _fuck,_ ” he murmured, and Josh felt like he’d witnessed some miracle of nature hearing a word that vulgar come from a person like Tyler.

“Sorry. It’s worse if you’re expecting it. That’s what they said back in Slowtown, something called _anticipatory anxiety,_ makes all your muscles tense and–“

“Thank you,” Tyler said, interrupting her again.

“No problem,” she said, an easy smile passing across her face once again. “We should get off of the street. We can go back to the safe house! Oh, man, Maya’s gonna love to see you. No one ever comes back to us, they all just move on– I can’t believe that I found you!” Josh knelt down and let Tyler put an arm around him. He pulled them both upright, but flinched at the sting he felt when Tyler let his hand fall down to his waist.

“You’re bleeding,” he said quickly, pulling his hand away. It was wet with blood.

“I forgot,” Josh said sheepishly, looking down at his shirt. He pulled the fabric away from his body. “It’s fine. It’s just a graze. I don’t think it went too deep.” Tyler looked at him, still worried. “It doesn’t even hurt, Tyler. I forgot about it. I’m okay.” Tyler didn’t look like he believed him, but he dropped it.

“Come on,” Katie said. “It’s just on the other side of town."

 

***

 

Josh was half expecting to see his own house again. He didn’t know why. Maybe he was just missing home. The safe house wasn’t anything special on the outside. It just looked like another one of the buildings that was in the town. Josh wouldn’t have known that it was a safe house without Katie there to lead them inside, but then, maybe that was the point. Katie rambled on the whole way across town, about Maya and the safe house and how many pictures were up on the walls and how much she loved it. When they finally stepped inside, she was grinning ear to ear.

“Maya! Maya, you’re never going to guess what happened!” She called out into the house. The entranceway was covered in postcards and posters and portraits with name cards below them of people Josh had never heard of, and on the ground there was a big fluffy carpet, bright pink. It was ridiculous, but then again, so was his own home.

“I’m in the kitchen,” a voice called from deeper in the building. It was softer than Katie’s, more melodious. Katie smiled even wider.

“Come on,” she whispered to Josh and Tyler. The two of them shared a look of disbelief before following Katie through the hallway and into the house. Along the way, Josh began to realize that they were in what used to be a restaurant. Most of it had been gutted, all the tables and chairs taken out, leaving the main floor space a massive area of black and white tile. Against the walls, the booths remained, old red leather seats. The walls were covered in even more posters and photos. On one side of the room, there were all kinds of musical instruments hung up. Tyler tugged on the hem of Josh’s shirt, and Josh looked over where he was looking; the wall closest to them on their right was covered in small photographs, all of people, some smiling, some posing, some stoic in the face. There were names under all of them.

Josh saw Tyler’s pictures. There really were a lot of them. Tyler was smiling wide in some, making funny faces in others. In one of them, he was asleep, an unsuspecting subject. Josh found himself feeling jealous, but he didn’t know why.

“Right in here,” Katie whispered back to them, and then turned forward again. She poked her head through the doors to the restaurant’s kitchen.

“What are you so excited about?” They heard Maya say on the other side of the door. Katie didn’t answer her. Instead, she leaned back, grabbed onto Tyler’s wrist and pulled him through the door. Josh followed close behind them.

“I found Tyler,” Katie said. It took a moment to find Maya among the pots and pans and countertops in the kitchen. She was in a wheelchair with a pale blue blanket across her lap, and a shotgun on the blanket. Her dark skin stood out against the white walls of the kitchen. She stared at Tyler as though he was a ghost, and Tyler stared back with the same blank expression that he always wore when he was searching his memory.

“You found Tyler,” Maya repeated. Tyler waved at her, and she burst into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a bit since I updated, I've been doing stuff and things... I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Leave feedback if you want, it's always welcome and appreciated! Thank you so much to the people who have been commenting, it really makes my day to see that you're enjoying the story!


	13. Blood and Ink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for gore, and minor panic attacks.

Maya had calmed herself down fairly quickly after she saw Tyler for the first time. Apologizing profusely, she and Katie had brought out the food she was making into the restaurant and put it on one of the booth tables. Tyler was still holding himself defensively, shields up. Maya’s face looked familiar to him, made him feel comfortable, and the restaurant didn’t feel new to him either, but he just couldn’t remember. He felt guilty. Every so often he would catch Josh looking over at him with concern in his eyes, and it made him feel even guiltier. He felt like a nuisance. Katie began to explain to Maya what had happened while she fetched bandages for Josh and Tyler’s injuries. Josh took care of himself quickly, smearing antiseptic on the cut in his side before taping a gauze pad over it. Then he helped Tyler.

Tyler was grateful for this. He would much rather not have a complete stranger standing behind his back, and even though Josh’s fingers were cold, they still felt comforting against the ache in his shoulder. He was happy that he never saw exactly how deep the knife went. When it went into his skin, it felt like it was going to go straight through to his chest. Josh worked quickly, but gently. Maya watched them both silently, sharing a look with Katie every so often. Tyler winced when Josh pressed down on the bandage, and Josh whispered an apology before sitting down. No one spoke. Tyler felt the pressure to say something, anything, to ask a question or give an answer or do _anything._ Instead, he looked down at the food sitting in front of him. Pasta. With salt. It wasn’t particularly flavorful, but it was hot, and the steam coming off of it was blowing up past his chin and cheeks. Finally, Maya spoke.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said. “It doesn’t seem real.”

“I’m real,” Tyler said, looking up at her. Her gaze was somehow soft and still piercing. He looked back down at the pasta.

“When you first got here, you had a new tattoo and a bullet in your leg. That one,” she said, pointing to the three thin black lines encircling Tyler’s wrist. He rubbed them instinctually. “It was still healing. You couldn’t remember why you got it, though.”

“I still can’t,” Tyler said. He didn’t know why he had any of his tattoos. He just knew that they were _there,_ permanently stained into his body. “How long was I here for?” Maya searched her memory.

“You… you had run out of medical supplies, I remember that. I helped you heal your leg. I think it was around two weeks, though you didn’t seem to remember much of it. I thought it was the trauma at first, but…” She drifted off, most likely hoping that Tyler would offer some insight into his condition, but he kept his mouth closed and his eyes trained down at the table. Maya sighed. “You were so polite, though. Every day when you woke up, I’d tell you that I was the one who was taking care of your leg, and you would thank me every day. And we’d have the same conversations, all the time. I never got tired of talking. I was lonely, then,” she said, looking over at Katie, who blushed and smiled wide. Tyler glanced over at Josh, who was smiling, though much more subtly. “But then you were gone. Left all your stuff here, except for that bag of notebooks. You took that everywhere, no matter what. I thought maybe you’d just gone into town, or wandered off to… to– I don’t know– relieve yourself or something. You never came back. I assumed…”

“You thought I died,” Tyler said, looking up at her. There were tears brimming in her eyes. She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m happy that you made it out there. I… I don’t suppose you remember where you went after you left?” Tyler shook his head. “All the same. I have your old clothes, if you want them back. The supplies… well, I didn’t want them to go to waste,” she said apologetically.

“It’s fine,” Tyler said softly. The guilt was back, settling like a rock in his stomach. There was something else, too. Fear. What if he did that to Josh? What if, when he wandered off the night before, Josh had never found him? What if he’d lost himself to the world forever? Josh’s fork clinked against the plate as he started eating. Katie did the same. Tyler wasn’t hungry, and Maya watched him as he sat silently.

“Why did you come back now?” Maya asked. Tyler looked up at her, then over at Josh, who had little strands of pasta hanging out past his lips. Tyler resisted the urge to smile at him.

“I… keep having these dreams. Nightmares, really. About the sea.”

“Tattoo ink and blood,” Maya said softly. Tyler looked at her. The image danced around in his mind and made his skin turn cold. He nodded slowly and looked down at his hands to make sure they weren’t covered in the deathly black water from that dream. “You had it while you were here, too. Especially when you had a fever, right at the beginning.”

“Josh… Josh figured, I can’t dream about the sea if I’ve never seen it. So I must have been there at one point. But it wasn’t in any of the notebooks, so we thought…”

“That might be where it all started?”

“Yeah.” Josh nodded in his own affirmation, mouth still full of pasta. He swallowed quickly.

“How long ago was Tyler here?” Josh asked, and then patted a hand against his chest, having swallowed too quickly.

“Oh. Dear. Months ago, maybe. It’s sort of hard to keep a calendar these days, though. I could be wrong.”

“So the dream isn’t new.”

“I could have told you that,” Tyler said.

“I just wanted to be sure.” He knew that Josh didn’t mean it offensively, but Tyler’s mind took it that way anyway. Josh didn’t trust him on these things. Of course he didn’t. He didn’t even trust himself. He _wanted_ to be able to trust himself.

They kept talking, slowly getting through their plates of pasta. Eventually, when Tyler began to feel more comfortable, he ate, too. Maya shared stories of her time with Tyler, which eventually merged into stories of her experiences at the safe house, and then into her experiences with Katie. Josh told stories of his time with Tyler, stories that Tyler couldn’t even remember, but they made him smile nonetheless. Josh had a grin on his face when he told Maya and Katie how Tyler had killed a Shadow by throwing a knife at it, but the two of them looked confused.

“A Shadow?” Katie asked.

“The dark sludgy things,” Tyler answered quietly. The word inspired fear in his bones, and he had to remind himself that he was safe.

“Oh,” Katie said. “We call them Creeps.” Equally accurate in description. At one more than one point, Tyler realized that he had bled through his bandage again, and again, and again. He shivered as drops of blood trickled down his back. They kept telling stories each time Josh switched out the gauze for a fresh sheet, throwing the old one out the front door of the restaurant. Katie fell asleep almost as soon as the sun set, slumped against the wall next to the booth cushion she was sitting on. Maya, Tyler, and Josh, moved their conversation to the kitchen, where Josh fell sleep a while later, sitting in the corner with his back against the wall. Tyler didn’t want to wake him up just yet, so they went to sit outside and take in the cool night air.

“How long have you known Josh?” She asked softly. Tyler was sitting on the ground next to her wheelchair with his back against the front wall of the restaurant. Tyler dug through his mind.

“I don’t know,” he finally confessed. “Not too long, I don’t think.”

“He cares about you,” she said.

“I know.”

“Do you care about him?”

“Yes.” He was surprised to find that there was no hesitation in his voice. “He saved my life.”

“That doesn’t mean that you have to care about him.”

“He’s helping me remember.”

“Remember what?” Tyler didn’t answer. Anything. Everything. His life. His conversations. His own name. Josh was a marker, separating the past from the present. He could remember the words they exchanged, the situations they’d been in so far. His fiery hair flashed in Tyler’s thoughts every so often and made him remember exactly where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. The world was becoming clearer and clearer. He didn’t want to go back to the blur that he’d lived in for so long. “Tyler?”

“I don’t know. Anything,” he said, vaguely. He knew the question that was coming next.

“What’s wrong with your memory?” She asked. There wasn’t anything accusatory behind it, nothing pitiful or nervous. She sounded curious, just plain curious. It was a relief.

“It’s all messed up,” he said.

“What happened?”

“If I knew, I don’t think we’d be going to the sea.”

“Oh.” She was silent for a moment. “What’s it like?”

“The sea?”

“Your memory.”

“Oh.” Tyler considered this. “It’s like the whole of my life is happening at once. Everything piles up on top of each other. If I remember one Shadow attack, I’m remembering all of them. One raider attack. One supply run. One broken bone, one new tattoo, one passing face. They all feel the same as each other.”

“Similar experiences result in compressed memory.”

“It sounds so scientific when you put it like that.”

“Fascinating.”

“ _Fascinating?”_

“Sorry. Not fascinating. Awful. But interesting. And you have no idea why?”

“Not a clue.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.” There was a pause. Tyler could hear the whirring of bugs, the hush of the wind in the streets.

“But you remember Josh, don’t you?” Tyler smiled a little in the dark.

“I do.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s because there’s a difference, now. Before, a Shadow attack was a Shadow attack was a Shadow attack. Now, it’s a Shadow attack _with Josh._ I remember it as separate, because I remember not being alone.” Maya thought about this in silence. Tyler was expecting her to keep asking more questions, but she was silent for a long while. He thought she might’ve fallen asleep, but finally, she spoke again.

“Katie saved my life, too.” Tyler looked up at her, but she stared straight forward. “She gave me purpose again. It gets lonely out here.”

“You two seem happy.”

“As happy as you can get in the middle of this hell,” Maya said, her voice spiteful. They were quiet again. Tyler felt like he trusted Maya, so he asked the question that had been on his mind for as long as he could remember.

“Am I being selfish?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Josh. He… when he saved me, he told me it was because he was lonely. Basically, because he wanted a friend. But he… he got stuck with _me._ I don’t even remember his name sometimes. I don’t even remember my _own_ name sometimes. But we’re dragging ourselves across the country to get to the sea either way. What does he get out of that? _Nothing_. And who’s to say that when we get there, there’s even going to be the answers we’re looking for? Who’s to say that I’m going to _remember_ the answers we get? What if it’s all worthless? Then… then I’ll forget him in a second, and he’ll remember me for the rest of his life. It–“ he stopped to wipe his eyes, to steady his breathing. “It’s not fair.”

“Have you talked to Josh about this?”

“ _God_ no,” Tyler sighed. “He’ll think I’m crazier than I already am. And what if he agrees? What if he just… what if he just leaves right then? Then I’m back where I started.” He let his own words sink into his skin. “I’m so _selfish._ ” He stared up at the stars that dotted across the sky, wishing he could just disappear.

“I don’t think you’re selfish. I think you care. You care about Josh, about what he thinks, what he wants. But I think Josh cares, too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be going on this trip with you.”

“But he gets nothing out of it.”

“He gets a friend.” Tyler felt tears streaming down his face, but he couldn’t remember when he started crying. Maya just let him go for a while, let him release all of the stress and fear and anxiety he’d been holding in, trying to spare Josh of his unstable emotions. The ragged sounds of his breaths joined the wind and the bugs as the only sounds of the night.

After what felt like hours, Tyler had finally stopped crying. He sat still, looking up at the stars, his face highlighted by the moon.

“When I was nine, I fell down a flight of stairs in the building I was staying in with my family.” Tyler didn’t look at her. She didn’t look at Tyler. “I broke my back, right below my diaphragm. We spent a year just trying to find a wheelchair. I… I couldn’t do anything. I was useless. I got left behind, no matter who I was with. But Katie… she didn’t leave. She didn’t even care that I couldn’t do things _normally._ She worked around it. She… she loves me.” Tyler started crying again, but he didn’t know why. “I love her, too.” He wiped his eyes and let out a shaky sigh. “Josh isn’t someone who would leave you, Tyler. I can tell just by looking at him. He cares.” Maya looked back at him, and he looked at her. He nodded.

“Okay.”

 

***

 

Tyler was dreaming. He dreamt about the sea, about the waves, the crashing blue water lapping at his ankles, making his skin sticky. He had his face towards the sky, towards the sun where it towered above him, threatening to light him on fire. Time ticked by slowly, he could feel it trickling in his veins, dripping down his skin like sweat. He plunged his hands into the water, letting it collect in the palms of his hands.

Then there was fear. It shivered its way down his spine, settling in every cell of his body. The water changed, turning black and red and swirling until it was the only thing in sight for miles. He pulled his hands from the darkness and covered his eyes with his fingers, feeling the blood and ink run trails down his face. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing would come out. Something was in front of him. He had to open his eyes. Something new. He had to open his eyes. A body.

It was a girl. The sea was clear again, but now the sky was the same deathly red as Tyler saw behind his eyelids. She was floating on her back, in the water, mouth wide, staring up at the fire above her. In her neck, there was a gaping hole that seemed to contain all of the evil in the world. It seeped out slowly, mingling with the water like vines growing up a wall. The sea was turning black, the sky, red. He screamed again, silent.

Then he was the one floating in the sea, and she stood over him, dripping darkness into his eyes from the tear in her neck, he kept screaming, but there was nothing he could do to move, to get away, to escape. She leaned down, putting her arms on either side of him, her eyes reflecting the red of the sun. She pulled the scream from his throat and made it her own.

“ _Run._ ”

 

***

 

Tyler woke up screaming, his throat raw, burning, eyes closed tight. Someone had their hands on his shoulders, too close, too close, he couldn’t _breath_ –

“Tyler, it’s okay, you’re safe–“ He could feel his heartbeat rushing in his ears. The voice was too loud, too close. He pushed it away. He wanted to throw up. He buried the palms of his hands into his eyes, but the girl was there, in his memories, waiting, and he didn’t want to know if his hands were still stained the color of her blood. He was sobbing, his body shaking uncontrollably, breathing too fast. The voice was still there, still too close. “Tyler? Can you hear me? It’s me, it’s Josh.” _Josh._ He shook his head, curling in on himself even further. “You’re okay.” _Josh._ He pulled in a breath. “I promise.” _Josh._ He opened his eyes. The world was blurry. He felt like his chest was going to implode. “Breathe.”

“Josh,” he said. His hands were clean. They were clean. He was clean. He was safe. He reached out like a child wanting to be picked up, and Josh pulled him into his chest, one hand holding the back of his head and the other wrapped around his waist, waiting patiently for his bones to stop chattering.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.” Tyler wanted to believe him. “It’s just me.” He clung to Josh’s shirt, burying his face in his chest. He smelled like river water and sweat. He smelled familiar. “It’s okay,” Josh repeated. Tyler shivered. There was a sharp ache in his shoulder, anchoring him to the present, anchoring him to the feelings of _life._ Josh shifted. “It’s okay. He’s fine. Just give us a second.”

It took Tyler a moment to realize that Josh wasn’t talking to him this time. He pulled himself away from the embrace only slightly and found two more sets of eyes on him, watching him from the doorway. A dark skinned girl in a wheelchair and a lanky girl standing behind her. They looked familiar. The both looked at each other briefly before leaving Tyler and Josh alone in the room. Tyler drew in a trembling breath and rested his head against Josh’s shoulder, closing his eyes again. The girl wasn’t there waiting for him this time. Josh rubbed his back as the memories began coming back to him. _Maya. Katie. Safe house._ He and Josh were sitting on a bed, but he couldn’t remember how they got there. He remembered the kitchen, the pasta… raiders. Getting stabbed. Crying, late at night. Punching someone in the face? Cans of soup. He couldn’t put things in order. His mind was still panicking.

“Hey, Ty?” The voice startled him, and he flinched. “Hey, it’s okay.” He rubbed his back again. “It was just a nightmare. You’re okay.” Tyler kept his eyes closed, but nodded against Josh’s chest. “It was just a nightmare.”

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away from Josh. Josh watched him, a worried expression on his face, and Tyler realized that this was the first time that Josh had seen him cry. He wondered what he looked like, nose reddened, cheeks blushed, eyes puffy. He felt sick, off balance.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Josh said. “Are you okay?” Tyler nodded, not trusting himself to answer calmly. “Was it the nightmare about the sea?” He shook his head. “No?” Tyler didn’t know how to explain. He wiped his eyes roughly, digging his knuckles into the sockets when the image of the dead girl’s neck returned to his thoughts. Josh pulled his wrists away. “It’s okay, Ty.”

“There– there was a girl. In the w-water. She– she– she had her neck blown out, but her– but her blood was– was black,” his teeth were chattering no matter how hard he tried to get them to stop. “I couldn’t scream,” he said quietly. “She wouldn’t let me.”

“It was just a nightmare.” Josh tried to put his hands on Tyler’s shoulders again, but Tyler pushed him away.

“What if it wasn’t? I– I knew her, I _recognized_ her, she was _real_ –“

“It was a dream, Tyler. Breathe.” He breathed.

“But I _knew_ her–“

“When Katie shot the raider the other day, she shot her in the neck. You were probably just dreaming about that.” Tyler blinked, confused.

“I… I don’t remember…”

“It’s okay.” Neither of them said anything. Tyler tried to get his muscles to stop shaking. “Do you remember where we are?”

“The safe house.” Josh nodded. “With Katie. And Maya. Maya… Maya knows me?” Josh nodded again.

“And what about before that? Before we got here?”

“R… raiders. I got hurt.” Another nod. “You did too.” There was worry in his voice, inserting itself into his tone subconsciously.

“I’m fine. And before that?” Tyler worked his way back in time. Where there were gaps, Josh filled them with information. Some of it came back to Tyler. Other things were lost forever, deep in the recesses of his mind. When they’d finally gotten back to how they first met, Tyler had calmed down. He felt safe. He felt real. He felt guilty, again. The feeling was becoming too familiar to him. Finally, Josh stood up. “Are you okay to go downstairs?” He assumed that _downstairs_ was the kitchen, and the restaurant, and Maya and Katie. He nodded, hoping that he wouldn’t have to explain himself to them. “We need to change your gauze, too,” Josh remarked as they started walking out the door of the room. Tyler looked around. They were in the hallway of an apartment building, rows or doors stretching out in front and behind them. When they went downstairs, the building transformed into a restaurant. Tyler wondered how people lived before there were raiders and Shadows in the world, when moms and dads still had jobs and families and lives. Maya and Katie looked up when they heard the door from the stairwell into the restaurant open up. They both smiled at Tyler, the kind of smile that a person gives when they pity you. Tyler didn’t want to be looked at like that.

“Morning,” Josh said.

“I made breakfast,” Maya responded, holding up a plate of rice and beans. Josh smiled.

“Usually I just eat stale cereal. This is _so_ much better.”

“It’s not much, but a while ago, Katie found a whole bunch of spices, and since then our meals have gotten a little more enjoyable.” Josh stuck a spoon into the pile of food and scooped some of it onto a separate plate. He handed it to Tyler, who outstretched his bad arm, winced, and then held out the other hand to take the plate.

“Thanks,” Tyler said quietly.

“Do you have any more bandages?” Josh asked, looking back at Maya.

“No. We used the last of them yesterday night, before we went to bed,” she said, looking over at Tyler. He had no memory of her changing his gauze, but it didn’t change the facts. “I didn’t think it would keep bleeding this long, though.” Josh hummed in response. “You don’t have any, either?”

“We gave ours away in exchange for water.”

“Guess you weren’t expecting to get stabbed,” Katie chirped, and Josh couldn’t help but smile at her bluntness.

“Guess not,” Tyler answered, picking up a fork from the counter. He picked at his food, but couldn’t work up the courage to take a full bite. He didn’t trust his stomach yet.

“Huh. Well, maybe… Katie, would you mind going out and trying to scavenge something up?” Katie nodded, her mouth full of rice. It made Maya smile. “In the mean time, we could clean that up with some paper towels, if you want?” It took Tyler a moment to realize that the question was directed at him.

“What? Oh. Yeah, I guess.” He put the plate down on the table. He was still wearing the shirt that had the hole in the back where the knife had gone through, so Maya went to get him another, more intact shirt while Katie helped Tyler out of the old one.

Her fingers brushed against the skin on his back, and for a moment, he was thrown into a memory of Josh’s hands ghosting across the scar that he’d found there, back at the river. He was startled by how vivid it was. None of his other memories were that specific. Katie peeled the old bandage away from the cut and dabbed at it with some damp paper towels before helping Tyler get the clean shirt over his shoulder without irritating it.

“How’s your stomach?” Tyler asked, remembering the gash that the bullet had made in Josh’s side. Josh lifted up his shirt and blinked at the white gauze that rested there.

“A lot better than your back,” he responded, and Tyler nodded, looking out the windows. The sun was already high in the sky, at the top of its arch. He’d slept a long time, though the end of it wasn’t particularly restful. He resisted the shiver that was twitching in his spine at the memory of the nightmare. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He still didn’t feel _right._

“There might be something in the upper levels of that apartment complex on 49th?” Maya suggested, picking up her plate again. “Oh, and if you see any more cans of beans. Or fruit.”

“We haven’t found fruit in _ages,_ ” Katie said.

“Well, keep an eye out for it anyway.”

“I will.” Tyler worked up the courage to speak his thoughts aloud.

“Can I go with you?” He asked. Katie looked at Maya. Josh looked at Tyler.

“Are you sure?” Josh asked.

“I want to get my mind off of… you know,” Tyler explained. He could still see the girl’s blood when he closed his eyes. Josh nodded.

“I mean, it’s fine with me,” Katie said. “I’d love someone to talk to.” Tyler was sure that Katie was probably going to do all the talking, but he also had a feeling that she was okay with that. After finishing breakfast, they set out, weaving through the back alleyways as per Josh’s suggestion. He warned them to look out for each other, and rather than making Tyler feel like a child, it made him happy that Josh cared about him.

They were careful. Though Katie talked the whole time, she spoke in a whisper, quietly telling stories about how she and Maya met and what it was like running the safe house. In the apartments that Maya had mentioned, they found several pill bottles, a bottle of peroxide, and some yellowing gauze pads. They also found the carcass of a Shadow, but neither of them spoke of it. When the Shadows died, they never really decomposed. Their flesh just remained, as thought they were sleeping. It made Tyler anxious, to say the least, afraid that if he breathed just a little too loud, the thing would wake back up again and try to kill him. Katie wasn’t afraid. She poked it with the toe of her boot, and when it didn’t stir, she kept walking. Tyler wondered what it was like to be that sure of oneself.

They didn’t find any cans of fruit, or beans, but they did find one of chicken and vegetable soup, and three of potato leek. Tyler saw the expiration dates on the cans and wondered what the date was that day. What was the year? The month? There were no calendars anymore, no clocks. The best they had was a compass, and a compass wouldn’t tell them if winter was going to come to an end anytime soon. Tyler let himself get immersed in Katie’s stories and in her train-of-thought ramblings. She reminded him a bit of Josh, but Josh had more of a filter, more of a sense for what Tyler was feeling. Katie didn’t notice if what she was saying was making Tyler uncomfortable or nervous. She kept right on talking. Josh wasn’t like that. Josh cared about what Tyler was thinking. He couldn’t believe that only a few hours earlier in the morning, he had been screaming, crying into his shoulder over a nightmare. The longer Tyler was awake, the more distant the dream felt. It still gave him the chills, but at least now, it wasn’t real anymore. It had been so real when he woke up. He was surprised that the blood didn’t stay on his hands into the waking world. Nothing had ever felt so real. Well, nothing that he could remember, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a while to update! I couldn't figure out how to write this chapter. I think I'm also going to be starting a oneshot soon (not based in the same apocalyptic universe- a separate piece), so keep an eye out for that :) I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always welcome. To those wondering, Josh and Tyler's relationship is definitely going to get closer and more intimate, but I'm not going to play up the romantic side of it. You could probably read it as romantic if you squinted, though... Thanks for reading!


	14. Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a shorter chapter– hope you enjoy! I'll probably update again by the end of the week, or possibly by the end of the weekend.

They stayed in the safe house for four nights. Tyler’s shoulder ached less and less each day, the skin slowly pulling itself back together, forming a new scar to add to the collection. Maybe he would remember what this one was from without writing it down. He doubted it. But he was happy. There was a clean shirt on his back, food in his stomach, a roof over his head. He was comfortable. The days hadn’t yet become similar enough for him to forget them altogether.

He watched as Josh and Katie talked and laughed together. Katie taught him how to make a splint out of sticks and rope, just in case. She told him stories about Maya, stories about her time in Slowtown, stories about her life, her family, her past. Tyler found himself jealous of her, jealous because _he_ couldn’t tell Josh stories. He began to wonder if Josh had become tired of being the only one who did the remembering, but then Josh would look up at him and catch him staring and smile, and Tyler would smile back, the thought already disappearing into the forgotten half of his mind.

On the second night, Maya tapped Tyler on the shoulder and gestured for him to follow her. He and Josh were sitting on the bench in the front of the restaurant reading from books of short stories that made Tyler want to write poetry. Josh watched him stand up and put his book down on the seat behind him, but he didn’t say anything. Tyler’s mind raced, trying to figure out what Maya was about to say to him. They stepped outside, and the door clicked closed behind them. Maya didn’t waste time in saying what she wanted to say.

“You can stay here, you know,” she said bluntly, monotone. She looked up at him. He blinked.

“Oh.”

“I don’t mean that you have to. I just… I don’t know. We have beds. Supplies. It’s not so bad.” She looked back down at her legs, smoothing the blanket out that was laid over her legs.

“Maya…” he didn’t know what to say. What could he say? They couldn’t stay there. They were already staying in one place for too long. Tyler could feel himself forgetting things, like there were little dark spots beginning to bloom in his mind. But Maya looked at him like he was dying, like she wanted to save him. “I– I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” She sighed.

“No you won’t.” Tyler was silent. “You’re on a mission. I know. It’s just… you don’t really meet people in the wasteland more than once. People just move on. And I know, I _know_ that you have to go and you have to keep moving and you can’t just stay here, but… I don’t know.”

“Sorry,” Tyler said. She shook her head.

“Don’t apologize.” He still felt the need to apologize, but he shoved it back in his head. Maya sighed. “What do you think you’re going to find out? When you get to the sea, I mean.” Tyler didn’t have an answer. “What do you _want_ to find?” He still didn’t have an answer. Not at first, at least. He hadn’t put too much thought into it. He and Josh were just searching for “answers.” He slowly realized that their quest was simply an excuse for adventure. Maybe that’s what made it interesting.

“I… I want to know what happened, I guess. I want to know _why_ my brain’s all…” He whistled and twirled a finger in the air by his head. “And I want to know who I was _before_. And if I have family, or friends, or people who’ve been looking for me. People who cared.” He paused. “I want to know how to fix my mind.”

“Oh.” Tyler knew what she was going to say. He knew that she was going to tell him that there wasn’t going to be a simple solution, no miracle drug, no _answer_ to that question. He just had to live with it. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t already understood this, but it didn’t make it better.

“I know,” he said, interrupting her before she even began. “I _know,_ okay. It’s dumb. I just… I want to believe that that’s what we’re going to find. I have to.” She understood. She didn’t need to say it. It showed on her face, on the thoughtful nod that she gave him. She understood.

On the third night, he and Josh talked, alone, for the first time in days. Nights were spent with Maya and Katie, talking, eating, reading. Days were spent scavenging, cooking, cleaning. They didn’t have time. But Josh couldn’t sleep, and Tyler couldn’t either, so they stayed up, Tyler sitting on the bed and Josh on the couch in one of the tiny apartments that was above the restaurant. Josh had Tyler’s notebook out on his lap, a pencil in his hand and a lamp on the ground in front of him. Tyler leaned forward on the bed, his legs crossed, watching the pencil scratch across the paper. It felt strange to watch Josh write for him. He had a feeling that he needed to take the notebook back, to hold the pencil for himself, to feel it against the callouses on his fingers. He didn’t. But he wanted to. Josh looked up at him.

“How much detail do I include?” He asked. “I mean, I can put the basic stuff, like you were doing before, but I feel like that just… leaves so much out.”

“I never had much need for detail before,” Tyler responded, rubbing his eye. Josh looked up at him, but didn’t say anything. “I don’t know. If you include details, you’re gonna run out of room pretty quick. And I don’t think either of us want to lug a backpack full of notebooks across the country.”

“But then you’ll… you’ll be missing things.” It was like he didn’t want to say the word _forget._ Tyler didn’t blame him.

“Maybe you can be my memory instead,” Tyler said. “For the details, at least.” Josh smiled, the light of the lamp lighting up the blush in his cheeks. It made his hair look redder, like fire. Then he shook his head.

“What if we get separated? Then you’re left with nothing.” Tyler thought about it, and then stopped thinking about it. He didn’t want to wonder what would happen when he was suddenly lost, left without an idea of who he was or what he was doing or where he was in the world.

“It’s fine,” Tyler said. “I’m sure you’ll find me.” He grinned. Josh didn’t.

On the fourth night, they packed. Clothes were washed, water bottles were filled, food was canned and dried and sealed. The next morning, Tyler’s bandage was changed out one last time, but Katie didn’t think that it would need to be changed another time. She said, “let it breathe, it’ll heal on it’s own.” She said, “probably gonna be a pretty big scar, too, since we didn’t have stitches. Sorry about that.” Tyler told her that it was okay. Katie smiled as she taped the gauze down onto his skin. Her fingers were warmer than Josh’s.

Maya handed them two plastic bottles, one full of what seemed to be water, the other filled with what seemed to be dirty river water. “Vodka,” she explained. “And whiskey.” Tyler didn’t know what that meant. It showed on his face. “It’s alcohol.” He still didn’t understand. She laughed. “It gets you drunk. A little dizzy. Makes you feel all warm and happy.”

“That sounds amazing,” Tyler said, eyeing the bottles. She laughed again, and Josh laughed too.

“It makes your head hurt like hell the morning after, though,” Josh said, taking the bottles. “How old do you think these are?”

“Old enough to be worth the wait.”

“Nice.” Tyler still didn’t understand, but he figured that he would, eventually.

“In case of emergencies, you know?” Maya said, and Josh smiled. “Drink responsibly.”

“Yeah, _sure,_ ” Josh said. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“ _Josh,”_ Katie said.

“Kidding, kidding. We’ll be safe.” It was only when Josh said those three words that Maya started crying. It seemed to Tyler like perfect symmetry. He foggily remembered Maya crying as soon as they met, and now she was crying again when they were leaving. Watching the tears fall down her cheeks made his throat tighten, but he swallowed back the emotions that were welling up in him.

“Please be careful,” she said, her voice cracking. Her cheeks were flushing dark red, and she wiped her eyes.

“We will,” Tyler said. “I’m sorry,” he added, not sure of what else to say. Maya didn’t tell him not to apologize this time. She knew what he was saying sorry for. For leaving, for knowing that they wouldn’t come back, for moving on without her and Katie. For convincing her that he was dead in the first place. He meant it. He was sorry.

“It’s okay. It’s enough just to know that you’re alive now. That you didn’t… that you were alive before, too. I’m so happy that you made it.” Tyler wanted to say, _me too,_ but he didn’t. He just smiled.

Katie presented Josh with a pile of maps, tied up with a little bit of yarn to keep them together. They were old, aged, yellow and crumbly at the corners, but they were detailed, and that was what mattered. On some, there were roads, cities mapped out; on others, there were rivers, mountains, hiking trails.

“I put them together to help you get to the sea,” Katie said. “They’re numbered. If you start with the _one_ s, they’ll get you heading east however you like. Then just keep going– once you reach the edge of the _one_ s, go on to the _two_ s… you get it.” Josh nodded.

“They’re amazing,” he said.

“They’re a lot more accurate than mine,” Tyler muttered, but he was smiling.

“And here,” Katie said, pulling something out of her pocket. She dropped it into Tyler’s palm while Josh was looking over the maps. “It’s a compass.”

“I know,” Tyler said softly, looking it over. There wasn’t any spite in his voice. Katie knew that.

“I think it’s probably going to be more accurate than the one hanging off of Josh’s backpack. And it’s bigger, too. Easier to read, you know?” It was made from metal and glass. Tyler wondered how expensive it would have been back when things still cost money.

“Thanks,” he said. Katie had tears in her eyes too.

“And,” she said. “Here.” She put a bright orange bottle into Tyler’s other hand. The contents rattled around. Pills. “Painkillers,” she said. “Just in case. They’re hard to come by. Only take one a day, if you need it. If you take too many, you die.” Tyler looked down at the little bottle. There were only about twenty pills inside. How could a pill kill you? He didn’t want to find out. Josh tied the maps back up with the yarn and put them into his backpack, taking the compass and the pills from Tyler and packing those up, too. His eyes lingered on the label of the orange bottle, but he shoved them deep down in the bag near the bottom with the other medical supplies that Tyler and Katie had scavenged when they went out on the second day at the safe house.

They left.

Maya cried while she waved. Katie rubbed circles into her back as they went back inside.

Tyler cried while he waved, too. Josh didn’t rub circles into his back. He watched him carefully, watched as he wiped his eyes angrily, forcefully, willing himself to calm down. He didn’t know why he was crying. Technically, he’d known Katie and Maya for as much time as Josh had. He couldn’t remember the time that they’d spent together in the past. It was lost in his memory. And still, he felt like he was leaving behind something important. But he would remember them. He would remember them if Josh remembered them with him, if Josh reminded him. It was liberating for him to know that he wasn’t the only one keeping track of his mind, but still, he felt guilty for making Josh help him so much. And he was remembering okay so far, anyway. As their feet scuffed on the back roads of the city, he forced himself to picture their faces, the way Katie’s frizzy hair framed her face, the dark, almost purple tint of Maya’s cheeks, the freckles that they both had across the bridges of their noses, their eyes– what color were their eyes?

Tyler’s step faltered. Josh looked at him, but didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes trained to the ground, focusing.

How had he already forgotten the color of their eyes? There were a limited number of options; brown, blue, green, hazel – none of them clicked into place in his mind. They all seemed so foreign. He couldn’t even remember the color of his own eyes. How long had it been since he looked in a mirror? And then he couldn’t remember the color of Josh’s eyes.

Was this all it took? A few minutes of walking, of forgetting to remember, and everything would disappear? He felt his heartbeat pick up. What color were Josh’s eyes? _What color were Josh’s eyes?_ He felt trapped in his own head. Brown, blue, green, hazel, brown, blue, green, hazel, gold, red, yellow, white, black–

“Tyler?” He didn’t want to look up when Josh spoke his name. He had to remember. He had to remember on his own, without help, without looking up. “Ty, are you okay?” What would he tell Josh? _Sorry, I forgot what you look like because I haven’t looked up at you in the past thirty seconds and my memory doesn’t hold in anything that I want it to–_ Josh held onto his arm, gently, and pulled them both to a stop. “What’s wrong?” It wasn’t so much of a question as it was a demand. Tyler shook his head, brown, blue, green, hazel, brown, blue, green, hazel, what _was_ it? “Tyler, look at me.” Josh’s fingers were under his chin, cold fingers, calloused fingers, pulling his gaze up to look him in the eye.

It clicked. Brown. Chocolate brown. The color of mud after it rains, the color of an ancient tree, still standing, dark like the night sky but glinting with stars. Brown. It clicked.

“I can’t remember the color of their eyes,” Tyler said, his voice quiet but unyielding. Josh blinked.

“Their eyes?” Tyler pulled away, stepping back from Josh. Brown, blue, green, hazel. Brown clicked. Brown settled in under red hair, settled in on either side of a crooked nose, settled in above high cheekbones, over a strong jaw. Tyler breathed.

“I’m already forgetting. I’m forgetting and it’s been _minutes,_ Josh, how am I already forgetting? What happens when we get hours away? What happens when I don’t think about them for days? I won’t even remember their names, nonetheless the color of their eyes, and then I’ll just keep forgetting until I forget where we came from and where we’re going and what we’re doing and who I am and who _you_ are– what are you _doing_?” Josh had started digging through his backpack, searching through the pocket at the front. He pulled out Tyler’s notebook, flipped it open to the most recent page, and showed the paper to Tyler.

There was a picture taped to it. Maya and Katie, standing in front of the restaurant doors, grinning. Maya, green. It clicked. Katie, blue. It clicked.

“You took this picture, Tyler. It was on the second day that we were there, with Katie’s Polaroid. You got really close because you wanted to see their freckles.”

“I don’t remember,” Tyler said, though it was already obvious. He stared. Maya, green; Katie, blue. Josh reached over and flipped the picture over to the other side, the tape on the border acting like a door hinge. _Maya and Katie- Stay safe. Stay alive._ The handwriting was messy, but the words were clear.

“Are you okay?” Josh asked. Tyler nodded, despite the tight feeling that remained in his chest.

“Sorry,” he said, and then, before Josh could tell him not to apologize, “It’s weird, you know? I don’t… I don’t remember the first time that I met Maya. But I feel like I trusted her. And now we’re leaving…”

“It’s not weird. It means that the memories are there somewhere, deep down. They’re not lost.”

“Don’t say that to me,” Tyler said. Josh was taken aback. Tyler wiped his eyes, despite the absence of tears. He didn’t want to explain himself. _They’re not lost._ The sentence had too much hope, too much potential to hoist upon his shoulders. He’d accepted that his memories weren’t going to return. There were years of his life missing. There were faces that he’d never recall anywhere else but in his dreams and in his nightmares. There were conversations that he would repeat, over and over and over again, and it was okay. It was _okay._ It had to be okay. _They’re not lost._ “Sorry,” he said softly. “It’s just weird.”

Josh didn’t correct him this time. God, he needed to clear his head. He closed the notebook, checking one last time– Maya, green; Katie, blue – and put it back in the backpack, taking out his water bottle. He sat on the ground, taking sips, repeating the colors in his head, Maya, green; Katie, blue; Maya, green; Katie, blue; Josh… he blinked. Brown. It clicked.

“Josh?” Josh made a little _hm?_ sound and looked down at Tyler. “What color are my eyes?”

“Brown,” Josh said, smiling a little.

“Like yours,” Tyler mumbled.

“Yeah,” Josh said. “Like mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated– sorry I wasn't responding to to comments, I'm sort of new to this site and I didn't realize that I was capable of replying! Oops... Leave a comment if you want!


	15. Ohio

Tyler stared down at the photo in his hand, looking at it for the thousandth time that day. The corners were already bending inwards and the white border was becoming brown with dust. Nothing would stay clean out here, not even for a second. Josh knew that he was still looking at their eyes, and it seemed that even after four days away from the safe house, Tyler still recognized the two girls when he saw them. It made him feel a little better about the situation at hand.

Josh looked away from Tyler and down at the papers in his hands. Since they’d left, Josh had been in control of the maps, mainly because he had the most experience navigating. He had, after all, gotten himself almost all of the way across the country, west to east, without getting himself lost in the jumble of cities and mountains that stood in his way. With a map, it was considerably easier.

“What road are we on?” Tyler asked absentmindedly. He was looking around at the area that surrounded them. They were in the middle of nowhere, it seemed, surrounded on either side by vast expanses of nothing but cracked earth and the occasional clump of trees. On the highway that stretched out before them, there were cars that were crashed into each other or pulled over. Sometimes they were just stopped in the middle of the lanes.

“It’s a highway,” Josh responded. “224.” He had the words memorized by now. This was already the third time that Tyler had asked that day, and it wasn’t even midday. The day before, He’d asked nine times, and before that, fifteen, and before that, eighteen. Josh was coming to the realization that Tyler wasn’t good with numbers. It made sense. It easily explained why his maps were so awful.

“Huh,” Tyler responded. “How many miles do you think we’ve walked?”

“Since the safe house, about fifty miles. Maybe closer to fifty-five, now.”

“Wow. Ohio is big.” Josh let himself laugh, just like he laughed every time they had this conversation. The words were always the same, every time. The conversation felt rehearsed.

“Here. Look,” he said, showing Tyler the map. “We’re here,” he said, pointing to a spot around the middle of the map of local highways. “And this is the whole country.” He opened up the bigger map. “And Ohio is here.” It was a tiny state, off in the east.

“Woah.”

“Yeah.”

“And you started out all the way over there?” Tyler said, pointing to the west coast.

“Yeah.”

“California?”

“Probably.”

“You walked a long way.” Josh nodded. Tyler looked at him, expecting him to respond. He felt bad that he didn’t want to repeat the conversation again, one more time, for Tyler, but he was getting tired of it. Tyler looked back down at the photo in his hands before putting it back into his pocket. The silence between them was strange. He was getting worried about Tyler’s memory. This conversation wasn’t the only one that he’d repeated a few times. There were others, about Josh’s family, about the route that they were taking. Then there were the worse ones, where Tyler would repeat his fears out loud, over and over again. It was usually at night, when the sun would finally set and they had to find a car to camp out in. The only plus side to these panicked conversations was that Josh was slowly learning what to say to calm him down, to convince him to sleep. _It’ll be better in the morning._ Tyler believed him.

Eventually, Josh stopped to lean into a nearby car and turn the keys that still sat in the ignition. Nothing happened. He’d been trying to get one of these broken down junkers to work, but none of them would even make a sound when he twisted the keys. He sighed and stepped out of the car.

“Have you ever gotten one to work?” Tyler asked, watching him.

“Once,” Josh said. But it didn’t have enough gas to get me very far. And then the engine blew up a little.” Tyler smiled, and Josh did too. “But I’ve seen loads of raiders with these big armored trucks and vans and fancy cars. They’ve gotta get them from somewhere.” They started walking again. Josh could feel his feet aching more and more with each step. Four days of walking wasn’t exactly paradise. He was just grateful that they hadn’t encountered a dust storm yet. He doubted that a car would keep them anchored to the ground. They’d go tumbling for miles and probably end up dead. Josh didn’t want to keep thinking about it. “I hope we find one that works,” Josh muttered. “My feet _hurt._ ”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Tyler said, smirking. Josh rolled his eyes. “Sorry,” Tyler said sheepishly. Josh laughed, shaking his head. He adjusted his backpack straps on his shoulders. The air was starting to get warmer and there was sweat dripping down his chest. The only downside to being well stocked on supplies was that they weighed down the backpacks.

They walked a while longer. Josh kept checking cars, getting more and more frustrated when they wouldn’t start. At one point, he turned the key so hard that it snapped, and Tyler flinched. He apologized, but it didn’t make his feet hurt any less. Finally, the two of them encountered a scene that made them both slow to a stop.

There was a Shadow on the road. Or, rather, the remains of a Shadow. It was scraped across the road like a smeared stain on a table. Nearest to them was what seemed to be its leg. A bit further down the road was its torso, and then its head. An arm was pinned underneath the wheel of a car that was rammed up against the barrier of the highway. They took a moment to try to figure out what had happened.

“Do you think its dead?” Josh asked finally, breaking the silence. Tyler dead panned to him, his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” he said, looking back to the accident.

“Good,” Josh said before walking towards the crashed car.

“What are you doing?”

“Maybe it works?” he said over his shoulder. He could hear Tyler sigh and then start walking behind him. The door was unlocked. He dropped his backpack on the ground and slid into the driver’s seat and found the key still in the ignition, as per usual. Most drivers had probably assumed that they had no use for the car keys once they abandoned the car itself. The ring was usually in the cup holder or on the passenger seat or still in the ignition, always left behind. Josh turned it, praying, but the engine didn’t turn over. It didn’t even make an attempt. He sighed and leaned back in the old leather seat. Tyler opened the door into the back of the car and made a little “huh” noise.

“There’s suitcases back here,” he said, letting his bag slide off of his shoulders. Josh turned around. Tyler was already pulling one of them out of the car, letting it thud down on the road. Josh pulled himself out of the driver’s seat, watching as Tyler unzipped the bag before going to see if there were more. Shoved up behind the passenger’s seat there was a backpack and another, smaller suitcase. He yanked them both free and joined Tyler in rummaging through the things inside.

Tyler found a lot of clothes, mostly women’s clothes, a few pairs of tights and sweatpants and size-small t-shirts. Shoes, high heels, a nice pair of running sneakers. At the bottom, there were men’s clothes, baggy jeans, a button up shirt, size-XL t-shirts. Tyler pulled out some flannels and a pair of sneakers and put them off to the side. Then he found children’s books. He stared at the pictures on the covers, cartoon bunnies and puppies and happy families. They were old, but preserved within the car since seemingly before the wasteland was even a wasteland yet.

Josh watched him stare at the cover pages for a moment before opening up the suitcase he’d pulled out of the car. It was all kids clothes. There were tiny shirts and pants and shoes. More books. He closed the suitcase. Tyler tossed the books back into the suitcase.

“What do you think happened to them?” he asked, standing up. He leaned into the car, checking to see if there was anything else in the backseat.

“I don’t know,” Josh said. “Obviously they hit a Shadow. Then crashed.”

“There was men’s and women’s clothing. They had a kid.”

“Rich business man-type dad, considering that he decided to take a collared shirt with him when they left home.”

“Maybe they were just going on vacation,” Tyler said, giving up on his search and lying down on the seats.

“Maybe.”

“Somewhere warm. Secluded.”

“Sounds nice,” Josh sighed. Tyler sighed too. They both knew that they should keep walking. The shore was hours upon days away, and it wasn’t going to get any easier to walk that far, but for now, Josh’s body was thanking him for the chance to take a break. He leaned up against the metal of the car.

“What do you think the mom did?” Tyler asked, but then began to answer his own question. “Maybe she was a business woman, too. Or maybe she was an artist.”

“What makes you think she was an artist?”

“One of her shirts had paint on it. I don’t know.”

“Maybe the kid was the artist.”

“True. He got paint all over his mom’s shirt, and she kept it because she loved him.” Josh smiled. Tyler’s mind naturally invented stories for everything. Maybe it came with trying to fill the blank spots in his memory. His whole like was a big guessing game.

“My mom gave me a pot of paint one time. To keep me busy or something, I don’t know,” Josh said. Tyler sat up in the seat and Josh looked up at him for a second before looking down at his hands and smiled. “She gave me a big sheet of paper and expected me to know what to do with it. As soon as she left, I stuck both of my hands into the pot and threw paint at the walls of the apartment.” Tyler broke out laughing.

“Sounds like something you would do,” he said.

“We had to paint the whole apartment blue to cover it up. I loved it.” Josh started rummaging through the backpack and pulled out handfuls of green bills. Money. He hadn’t seen money in a while.

“What’s that?” Tyler asked, leaning forward.

“Money.” Tyler looked at him like he was expecting him to explain further. “Uh… it used to be used to trade things… for things.”

“Is it edible?” Josh laughed.

“No, no. It’s not.”

“Then why would you trade it?”

“You could buy things with it. Like, instead of buying medical supplies with soup, you would buy it with money.”

“Huh.” Josh was beginning to wonder if Tyler grew up in the wasteland. It was a hard life, especially for a kid. Or maybe he hadn’t grown up in the wasteland, and _money_ was just a concept that he’d forgotten entirely. “Weird. I think I would appreciate soup more than green paper.”

“Yeah, me too honestly.” Tyler groaned and stood up, stretching his arms out. He walked back to the trunk of the car and yanked it open.

“Oh, damn,” he muttered. “Look at this.” Josh stood up and met Tyler at the back of the car. The trunk was jam packed full of crates of water and boxes labeled _non-perishables_ and _just add water_ and _canned food_. He stared at it in disbelief. Tyler opened up one of the boxes, just to make sure that the labels weren’t lying. They weren’t.

“Damn,” Josh agreed. “We can’t carry all of this.”

“I know, but like… damn.”

“Damn.” They stared at the boxes for a moment longer.

“I mean, we should take what we can. Maybe swap out some of our stuff. We have, like, fifty of the same soups.” Josh nodded and began opening up boxes to see what was inside. Tyler went over to the passenger side of the car, determined to search every nook and cranny of the car. Josh began taking boxes of pasta and cans of preserved fruits out of the boxes, but after a moment, he was startled by the sound of an out of tune chord being struck. He thought at first that Tyler had found the radio, but the car wasn’t running. He peeked around the trunk and saw Tyler’s legs hanging out of the passenger door. There was a ukulele in his hands, and he was plucking the strings with one hand while he tuned it with the other. Josh watched him as he found the right notes, as he began strumming out chords, his fingers moving deftly. His eyes were closed. Josh sat down on the ground, listening to the music that he was making. It had been a long time since he’d heard anything new, anything other than his cassettes and CDs.

Tyler didn’t play out of rhythm. He didn’t play chords that didn’t go together, or strings that didn’t belong to be heard at the same time. He played it like he’d been playing it his whole life. And maybe he had. Josh had known him for a grand total of, what? Two weeks? Josh closed his eyes, too, listening to the music that was now coming from the car. He didn’t want Tyler to stop.

He did, eventually, of course. They couldn’t sit there forever. Eventually, the chords faded out, leaving the two of them in silence on an empty road. Josh sighed and opened his eyes to see Tyler staring down at his hands as though they’d just lit on fire.

“I didn’t know you could play,” he said, and the realized how dumb the statement was before Tyler could even answer.

“I didn’t either,” he said, monotone.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Josh paused.

“It was beautiful, though.” Tyler smiled.

“Do you mind if I take it with us? It just… it makes me happy.”

“Why would I mind?” Tyler shrugged, but he didn’t stop smiling. He looked around. Josh knew what he was about to say by the look in his eye, by the confusion and curiosity behind his expression.

“What road are we on?” Josh didn’t want to admit it, but he was getting tired of answering. He was getting tired of saying the same numbers, answering the same questions, hearing the same responses, _Ohio is big._ _Ohio is big. Ohio is big._ Tyler’s face dropped. “I’ve asked that before, haven’t I?” And then there were these moments, too. The moments when Tyler realized that he was repeating things, saying the same words over and over. It was a cycle. Conversation, repeat conversation, realize the repetition of the conversation, repeat the conversation again, realize the repetition of the conversation _again, repeat conversation again_. Josh had run out of ideas. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know how to help. He rubbed his eyes, knowing that he would have to answer Tyler’s question sooner or later.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You have.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Tyler was staring at him. He felt his eyes burning holes into his body, but he didn’t look up. He knew that his frustration was showing.

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.” It wasn’t believable in any way, shape, or form. “I’m frustrated. Not with _you_ , just… It’s getting worse. I don’t know what to do.”

“How many times have I asked what road we’re on?”

“A lot.” Tyler looked down at his hands. “I don’t mind–“

“Yes, you do. Don’t lie.” There was a harshness to his words that gave him chills. Josh didn’t want to get into a fight. Not now. Not when there was nowhere for them to go, no escape, no excuse.

“I just want to help. I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, it’s not like I know, either.”

“I know, I just… what do you want me to do? I’ve just been… answering. The same way, every time. Do you want me to tell you? That you’re repeating things?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because we’ve had this conversation before, too. And you never answer me.”

“I don’t know! Okay?” The ukulele made a hollow noise when it fell to the ground, hitting the asphalt of the road at Tyler’s feet. It didn’t break. Josh was glad that it didn’t break. “I said that this was going to happen. I warned you, didn’t I? I remember _that,_ at least. Things are starting to pile up on top of each other, and I can’t help it.”

“I don’t need _you_ to do anything, Tyler. I just want to know what _I_ should do.” Tyler was silent. He picked the ukulele up off of the ground and held it gently in his hands.

“I don’t know. Make it new. Make the conversations new. Don’t keep repeating the same things. I won’t notice if they’re the same, and I won’t notice if they’re different, so just… it’ll be better for you.” Josh sighed.

“I can do that,” he said. Tyler rubbed his eyes.

“We should start walking again. We gotta cover a lot of ground.” He stood up, and Josh did too. “Ohio is big.” Tyler caught Josh smiling. “What?”

“You remembered that we’re in Ohio.”

“Oh,” Tyler said. “Sick.”

“Sick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, sorry, another shorter chapter, but hey– shorter chapters means faster updates, right? I think? Probably? Let's hope,,, and sorry for the SEVERE amounts of angst... I promise, that'll get better once they're closer to each other. thanks for reading! I hope you're enjoying. Feel free to leave a comment– they make my day and I love reading what you guys think about the fic/what you want to happen!


	16. Hitchhikers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little less angst, a little more plot.

Josh’s feet were aching. There wasn’t much else to focus on other than the pounding feeling in his toes, or the sting in his calves. Ohio was mostly farms, as it turned out. Nothing much interesting to look at anymore. The cities were in the middle, but as they went farther and farther away from their starting point, it was all fields of dry grasses and wind-blown soil and collapsed farmhouses. It was interesting at first to see miles around of flattened land, but after the first few hours, it got monotonous. After a while, it was nearly unbearable.

It had been a day since Tyler found the ukulele. He carried it under his arm sometimes, strumming out little chords and tunes as they walked. Every time he played, he seemed to get lost in his thoughts, staring down at the ground or up at the sky. Josh had to stop him from wandering off of the road or falling into potholes whenever he played, but he didn’t mind. Tyler seemed happy when he played, and the music gave Josh a chance to be alone with his thoughts. It had been a surprisingly long time since he’d had time to exist in his own mind. He’d been constantly relaying everything he thought to Tyler to fill the silence between them, considering that he was the only one who really had stories to tell. Tyler could respond and share his thoughts, but he didn’t really know how to start a conversation.

That morning, though, Tyler had seemingly woken up a different person. The ukulele stayed tied to his backpack, the plastic straps clacking against it every so often. He was quieter than usual. He didn’t take his eyes up off of the ground, and he didn’t answer Josh when he asked questions or told stories. He didn’t eat breakfast, either, but they passed a water bottle between them as they walked silently.

Josh watched him, wondering what had happened. There was no way that he’d forgotten where he was– he obviously remembered Josh. Otherwise, he would’ve said something. Maybe he was sick? Josh glanced over at him. He could be sick. His eyes were a little more sunken than usual, and he seemed a little pale. Around them, fields and farms passed along with broken down farmhouses and crumbled structures. Tyler watched his feet, and Josh watched Tyler. Hours passed that way, in silence, no music or conversation between them. Josh thought maybe he’d done something wrong.

When they finally stopped for lunch, the sun was high in the sky, baking down on their shoulders where they sat on the side of the road. Tyler sat down immediately, taking his shoes off and rubbing his ankles where the boots dug into his skin. Josh dropped his bag to the ground and pulled out two cans of chicken soup, handing one to Tyler. Tyler put on a sour face and pushed it away. Josh sighed and put the cans on the ground. He couldn’t keep theorizing and worrying and guessing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. Tyler looked up. He looked dead tired. There were dark purple circles under his eyes. Josh regretted his harsh tone. “Are you okay?” He asked, a little more gentle.

“I’m fine, Josh.” Tyler sounded irritated.

“You’re not,” Josh persisted. “Why aren’t you talking? Did I do something?” Tyler shook his head. “Then what? Are you sick?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Josh waited for him to elaborate. “I have a headache. It’s fine.” He held Josh’s gaze, determined to prove that he was all right. “It’ll go away in a bit. I just didn’t sleep very well.”

“Okay,” Josh said. “Fine. But you have to eat something. I doubt that skipping breakfast helped you very much.” Tyler groaned in protest, but Josh pulled back the tab on the soup can and shoved it into one of his hands, putting a plastic spoon in the other. Tyler sighed and began to pick pieces of chicken out of the broth. They went back to silence. Josh was getting fidgety. He wasn’t used to being quiet for so long. Even when he didn’t have someone to talk to, he tended to speak his thoughts out loud. This was strange, this air of tension. Josh focused on eating. The soup was cold, but it had flavor at least, and the chicken had apparently not gone bad. Finally, when they both finished their cans and began putting their backpacks on again, Tyler spoke.

“Why aren’t _you_ talking?” He asked. Josh looked at him.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk.”

“ _I_ don’t. I can’t really think of anything to say. But I want _you_ to talk.” Tyler didn’t particularly _look_ like he wanted Josh to talk. He looked like he wanted to lie down and sleep, or to disappear from existence. Josh blinked at him. “Or have you already run out of stories?” Tyler asked, and for a moment, he went back to his old self, a little bit of challenge coming out in his voice, a lopsided smile on his face. Josh smiled back at him, and then adjusted his bag, looked down at the road, and started talking.

He said the first story that was on his mind; the time when he was way back on the west coast and he got arrested for spray-painting the wall next to his house. He wasn’t old enough to know that it was vandalism. One of the patrols had found him with pink paint all over his hands, and a giant comical bug splattered onto the wall. Josh had smiled and laughed, thinking everything was alright.

“I’d made _art._ I was so proud,” he explained.

“How old were you?” Tyler asked.

“Young,” Josh said. He couldn’t remember exactly. “But I mean, I didn’t _really_ get arrested. It was just to scare me.”

“Huh.” In all truth, Josh’s parents had been right there. The community’s sheriff had held his hand and walked him into the little holding cell with big metal bars, closing the doors behind them. He said, _that’s against the rules. If you do that again, you’ll have to stay in here for a while._ And Josh had said, _But it’s small, and dirty._ Tyler laughed at that. It was a quiet laugh, but it was a laugh. Josh kept talking.

He talked about when he lived in a holding cell for a while out in the wasteland because it was safe underground, and there was a dust storm that was going on for two weeks. He wondered out loud if the two of them were going to encounter one of said dust storms anytime soon, considering that it had been a while since the last one. He talked about how his feet hurt, and about how he liked it when Tyler played ukulele, and about how they probably had a long way ahead of them– Josh hadn’t done the math yet. He didn’t want to know.

Tyler listened, still staring at the ground. Josh would check in on him occasionally, but with his head down, he couldn’t tell if he was really okay or not. He was paying attention, or, at least, he was trying. Every so often he would laugh or interject a little comment or even just smile at Josh’s train of thought. Josh wondered if his side of the conversation was helping at all. It seemed usually that Tyler enjoyed it when they talked to each other. It definitely passed the time better than silence. But Tyler was giving no indication as to whether or not his headache had passed. After about an hour, Josh was beginning to think that maybe he was feeling better.

The notion was suddenly thwarted when Tyler doubled over and threw up on the side of the road.

Josh was taken aback.

It took him a moment to react to the situation at hand. Tyler was growing paler and paler by the second, and it was only when his knees began to buckle that Josh’s mind jumped back to the present. He stepped forward and put a hand around Tyler’s waist in an attempt to keep him from falling into his own vomit. Tyler went limp, and Josh was pulled to the ground with him, the hot asphalt scratching against their skin. For a moment, Josh thought that he’d passed out, but then Tyler put a hand over his eyes and groaned. He didn’t know what to do.

“Ty?” He asked softly.

“I feel sour,” Tyler responded, answering an unasked question. His cheeks were flushing red, and it made his face look even paler. Tyler retched and rolled over onto his side, holding his stomach tightly with one hand and his head with the other. Josh pulled a bottle of water out of his bag and tapped Tyler’s hand with it, kneeling down next to him. It took a moment for Tyler to realize what it was, but then he reached for it and took a sip, sloshing it around in his mouth, his face scrunching up in disgust.

“What do you mean, you feel sour?” Josh asked after a moment. Tyler took another sip out of the bottle and then handed it back to Josh, putting his hand over his eyes again.

“I feel _sour,”_ he repeated as though it clarified his initial statement. “My head. My bones.” Josh remained silent. “Migraine,” Tyler said quietly. It was as if he knew that Josh was worried he was sick. Josh let out a breath. At least a migraine would pass in a day. He felt guilty for his relief when Tyler retched again.

“What do I do?” Tyler just shook his head lightly. “Do you want one of the painkillers?”

“What painkillers?”

“The ones that Katie gave us.”

“I don’t remember,” Tyler said miserably, his voice cracking.

“It’s okay.” Tyler was silent again for a few seconds, breathing in and out in what was seemingly an attempt to calm his stomach. “It might not sit too well on an empty stomach, anyway.” Tyler didn’t answer. Instead, he sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes.

“I don’t want to move.”

“We can just sit for a minute.” He knew that Tyler needed more than a minute. He needed a day, a night, a comfortable bed. But to get there, they needed to find shelter first. Sitting out on an open road wasn’t a good idea. Tyler nodded and rested his head in his hands, sitting cross-legged. Josh sat still for a moment, watching him, before taking the maps out of his bag. There had to be somewhere near by where they could find a place to settle in.

Yet, of course, it was just their luck that the nearest city was miles upon miles away. They were surrounded by farms, just as they had been for the last few days, and on every farm there was a broken down farmhouse, unsuitable for occupation. Josh glanced back over at Tyler, who still seemed to be focusing on breathing. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was sitting upright, Josh would have sworn that he was asleep.

He took a drink from the water bottle before handing it to Tyler, who took it blindly and began drinking from it cautiously as though he’d never seen it before in his life. Josh kept looking at the maps, but he wasn’t really reading them anymore. He was planning. Josh remembered back to when they first met, when Tyler had gotten a headache at his house and immediately went to bed. This seemed worse than that, though. Maybe Tyler had caught it in time back then. Maybe he was hiding from Josh it this time. Josh wondered why, but it wasn’t an argument he wanted to get into at the moment, and he was certain that it wasn’t an argument that _Tyler_ wanted to get into. Their best bet seemed to be to keep walking until they found another farmhouse, one that was fairly habitable, and let Tyler sleep it off. But Tyler didn’t seem like he wanted to stand up anytime soon, and Josh wondered how far he would be able to walk before giving up entirely and sleeping on the road with rocks for a pillow. But they still had to try.

“Ty?” Tyler let out a tiny “hmm” in response. “We have to find somewhere to camp. We can’t stay on the road.” Tyler let the statement hang in the air.

“I know,” he said.

“How’s your stomach?” Tyler just hummed again, and then after a moment, he spoke.

“My bones hurt.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat, took a sip of water, and continued. “How far?”

“I’m not sure. Until the next farmhouse.”

“All the houses are collapsed.”

“Until the next _standing_ farmhouse.” Tyler hummed again. “Are you okay to walk?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Tyler said. He pulled his hands away from his eyes and winced at the bright sunlight. He reached a hand out to Josh, his fingers shaking slightly. Josh stood up and held onto Tyler’s wrist, helping him to stand up. Tyler was wobbly on his feet, but he steadied when he put more weight into Josh’s grip. He closed his eyes. He looked like he could be sleepwalking.

Farms passed slowly, and everything felt a lot farther away than it had before. Josh guided Tyler down the road, as Tyler refused to open his eyes again. Josh understood. The sun was just too bright now. The first structure that they saw was a pile of loose wood that looked like it could have once been a shed. The next was a half-toppled silo, a junkyard of crumpled metal. In the distance, Josh could see the outline of a house, but as they got closer only a few minutes later, it turned out to be the skeleton of a burned down barn.

Tyler’s steps got slower and more uneven as they went. Every bump in the road made him stumble, made him cling onto Josh’s arm like he was worried he would fall straight through the earth if he let go. Josh could feel his fingers shake against his skin, cold and fragile. His nails dug into Josh’s wrist.

They passed another unlucky barn, another wind-torn house, another would-be shed before Tyler finally gave up. He dropped to the ground abruptly, his jeans tearing open on the asphalt. Josh tried to help him stand up again, but he rested his head against the road, threw an arm over his eyes, and gagged on his own breaths. Josh’s chest tightened. He looked like he was dying. He didn’t know what to do. They couldn’t stay out here. And they especially couldn’t stay out here when Tyler was so out of it. But he also couldn’t force Tyler to stand up and walk, and he doubted that he could say anything that would convince him to keep going. So Josh sat down next to him, giving in. He pulled a t-shirt out of his backpack and put it over Tyler’s head, receiving a small noise of thanks and nothing more.

“What can I do?” Josh asked.

“I’m on fire,” Tyler answered, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Do you want water?” Tyler didn’t answer. His breaths rattled in his chest, the only noise for miles. Josh propped his back up against his backpack, reclining against the fabric and the road. He didn’t know what else to do.

The sun traveled across the sky slowly. Tyler didn’t so much as move a muscle for anything but breathing. Hours passed that way, Tyler sleeping, Josh watching the sky, until the sound of Tyler’s breath wasn’t the only thing penetrating the wasteland. There was something else.

Josh sat up as soon as he recognized the hum of an engine on the horizon. He looked over at Tyler, who hadn’t noticed yet, or was too tired to care. He pulled out his shotgun. This was why he never camped on open road. Of course there would be raiders. Of _course._ This _was_ the wasteland, after all. He made sure that there were bullets in it, and the sound of Josh loading the shotgun made Tyler stir. Josh couldn’t imagine what the sound of a gunshot would be like for him in that moment. It would be like the bullet was tearing through his own skull. Josh looked back to the road.

The noise was coming from the direction they had come from, back to the west. Josh watched as the speck on the horizon grew bigger, closer. It was a truck, a rusted old red truck. He was surprised to see that there were no spikes on the front or bones hanging off of the sides. Raiders usually made a significant effort to look like raiders, even from miles away. This was just a truck. Josh didn’t lower his gun. As it pulled closer and the sound of the engine grew louder, Tyler covered his ears with his hands and turned onto his side. Josh glanced at him, but pulled his attention back to the approaching vehicle.

It rolled up next to them slowly, and the passenger side window rolled down. Josh brought his gun up, not aiming all the way at the driver, but ready to do so if he needed to. Much like the car, the driver didn’t look like a raider, either. He didn’t even remind Josh of the patrol or the guard back on the west coast. He looked like he was about to ask Josh if he wanted to buy a pair of sunglasses or a flower for his sweetheart. There was a thick beard on his face, but his hair was trimmed. It made Josh wonder what he looked like, but then again, he probably looked like anyone else who had been living in the wasteland for years. Scraggly, and covered in dirt. The man looked him over for a moment. He didn’t have a gun. Both of his hands rested loosely on the wheel. After a while, he spoke.

“Need a ride?”

“No.” Josh’s response was immediate. The man leaned forward, looking over at Tyler who was curled up on the ground with his hands over his ears.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Josh spoke with all of the certainty that he didn’t have. He was trying to be convincing, trying to be the strong man, the protector, but his worry for Tyler was showing on his skin and he knew it. The man raised his eyebrows.

“Listen, buddy, I’m not some piece of shit. I’m not gonna shank you in your sleep. I’m just heading north. Where are you trying to get to?” Josh considered the question. It couldn’t hurt to answer.

“East.”

“I could drop you off at the Pennsylvania border. Easy. Save you some time.” Josh considered this, too. He considered the truck. He considered Tyler. “I’m going to Maine. Do you know where Maine is?”

“I have a map.”

“Yeah. Maine. North. They’ve got mountains up there, and snow. The Demons don’t work well in the cold. They leave you alone.” Josh assumed he was talking about the Shadows. “Why are you heading east?” Josh looked down at Tyler, lowering his shotgun. If the man wanted him dead, he would have killed him already. That’s how it was out here.

“He wants to see the ocean,” Josh said, looking at Tyler.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing.”

“Right. Sorry.” The man ran a hand through his beard. “So how about a ride?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you offering us a ride?”

“I don’t know. I have a car. You don’t. And gas comes easy nowadays, since there aren’t many people left to take it out of the cars on the roads. If you were going west, it’d be a different story, but you’re nothing out of my way.” Josh looked back down at Tyler one more time before making up his mind.

“Okay.”

“Great. You can ride in the bed, if you want. There’s a mattress back there. He can sleep comfortably,” the man said, nodding in Tyler’s direction.

“Thanks,” Josh said.

“I’m Nate, by the way.”

“Josh. That’s Tyler.” Tyler’s foot twitched at his name. Nate nodded. He turned the engine of the truck off and got out, walking around to the back to unhitch the gate. Josh knelt down next to Tyler, nudging his shoulder. Tyler groaned in protest.

“Tyler.” Another groan. “Ty.” Silence. “You just have to get up for a second, okay? There’s a nice mattress waiting for you. A bed.” No response. “Do you want me to carry you?” Tyler shook his head. He rolled back onto his back, letting the t-shirt fall from his face. There were tear tracks running down the dust on his cheeks, and his eyes were red and puffy, but Josh didn’t say anything about it. He offered Tyler a hand and practically lifted him from the ground with no help from Tyler’s shaky muscles. Nate watched them from the back of the truck, but Josh ignored him. He guided Tyler over to the bed of the truck. The mattress in the back was covered in blankets and pillows. Despite the fact that it was in the back of a truck, it looked perfectly comfortable. More comfortable than sleeping on the road. Tyler had his eyes closed, but when he finally got up into the truck and sunk down onto the cushion of bedding and blankets, Josh could have sworn he saw him smile. Nate looked up at Josh where he sat beside the mattress.

“Is he okay?”

“He will be.”

“I’ve got water, if you need it.” Josh figured he should start showing some gratitude, so he let himself smile as he shook his head.

“It’s fine. We’ve got some too.” Nate smiled back at him.

“Alright. The engine gets a little loud, but you get used to it. Tap the window if you need anything, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Josh said, and then looked down at Tyler. He’d already covered his head again with a blanket, his breathing slowly becoming steadier. Josh looked back up at Nate. “Really. Thank you. So much.”

“It’s no problem.” And with that, he walked back to the driver’s seat and started the engine. Tyler flinched at the noise, burying his head deeper into the blankets. He stretched his hand out against the mattress, and Josh stared at his shaking fingers for a moment before intertwining his own fingers between them. Tyler squeezed gently, weakly, his hand still shaking. The truck began to move forward. East.

 

  * ••



 

“Pennsylvania,” Nate said, opening the window between the cabin and the bed of the truck. The sound of his voice startled Josh. He had fallen asleep with his head leaning against the body of the truck, his hand sweaty where it rested in Tyler’s. Tyler had changed sleeping positions, and was now stirring at the new sound.

“What?” Josh asked, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

“Pennsylvania. Been driving for about… five hours? Six? I had to stop and siphon gas a while ago, but you didn’t wake up. Out cold.”

“Huh,” Josh said.

“But we’re at the border. I have to start heading north.”

“Towards Maine.”

“Yeah. Maine.” Nate looked happy just to talk about going north. It made Josh smile. He looked down at Tyler. “I hate to make you wake him, but I want to cover some more road before it gets too late.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” Josh was finally fully waking up, and as his mind kicked back into gear, he began to feel guilty. Nate had driven them all this way, and Josh had just _slept._ It was like picking up a rock, carrying it with you for fifty miles, and then just dropping it again.

“Do you guys need anything? Food, clothes, anything?”

“No, god. You’ve helped us out so much. We’ll be fine. Thank you.” Nate smiled.

“No problem. Just pass on the favor. It gets crazy out here. Sometimes, it pays to be nice.” Josh nodded. “But here. Let me see your map.” Josh handed it over. Nate searched through the roadmap of Pennsylvania before settling on one spot in the west-most part of the state. “Here. Franklin Road. That’s what we’re on. There’s an old fitness center right over there, down that little avenue there, and right next to it is a housing building,” he pointed a little ways up the road, “and you can probably spend a while there for… Tyler, you said?” Josh nodded. “For Tyler to… recover.”

“He has a migraine,” Josh said. He figured Nate deserved a little clarification.

“Oh. Shit. Killer. Wait a sec.” He gave the map back to Josh and rummaged in his backpack for a moment. “Here.” He pulled out a blue and white bottle. “They’re for headaches, I think. The label’s rubbed off a little. _Fever, minor aches and pains, headaches._ They might not help now, but in the morning they’ll probably help him get past the fuzzy feeling. I’ve been there.” He passed the bottle to Josh.

“Are you sure?” Josh asked.

“I’ve got plenty. Found ‘em in a drugstore a while ago, way in the back.” Josh examined the bottle before putting it into his bag.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I’ll get the back gate for you, then,” Nate said, stepping out of the truck. Josh realized that he had to wake Tyler up. He looked down at the sleeping boy in the pile of blankets. His face was barely visible, but from what little Josh could see, he knew that Tyler was doing better now. The color had returned to his skin, and his eyes were no longer red with tears. He put a hand on Tyler’s shoulder, which was enough to bring him out of sleep on its own. His eyes flicked open, unburdened by the bright sunlight, as the night was already beginning to settle in.

“What?” He asked, his voice cracked and dry as the wasteland itself. Josh handed him a water bottle.

“How are you feeling?” Josh asked.

“Where are we?” Tyler responded with a question of his own.

“Pennsylvania.”

“Penn… what?”

“That’s Nate,” Josh said, nodding in Nate’s direction. He was pulling on the metal hitch on the back end of the truck.

“Nate…” Tyler said slowly. “Am I supposed to remember him?”

“You were pretty out of it when we met.”

“How are we in Pennsylvania?”

“We got a ride. This is Nate’s truck.”

“Nate’s truck… my head hurts,” Tyler said as though he was suddenly remembering the existence of his own body.

“Yeah. Come on. We’ll get you somewhere more comfortable.” Tyler was still holding onto Josh’s hand as they climbed out of the truck. He shivered a little against the cold air of the night. Nate made sure that they had all of their things before closing up the gate again.

“You sure you don’t need anything else?” he asked. Josh shook his head. Tyler was clinging to his arm like a lost child, using Josh like a crutch.

“Thank you so much. You saved us _days_.”

“Like I said. No problem. The center is right past those trees. You can see it if you squint.” Josh squinted. He saw it. “Stay safe.”

“You too.” And with a wave and a sputter of an engine, Nate was already driving off to the north, turning left at the intersection he’d left Tyler and Josh off at and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

“Who was that?” Tyler asked.

“Nate,” Josh said.

“Am I supposed to remember him?” Josh realized that Tyler was repeating the conversation.

“No,” he said. “It’s fine.” Tyler took this as an acceptable answer. They began walking towards the line of trees down the road.

“Where are we?” Tyler asked.

“Pennsylvania,” Josh answered.

“Where’s that?”

“East of Ohio.”

“Ohio.”

“Yeah.”

“You got us to Pennnsylvania?” Josh didn’t want to explain his whole story about Nate again. He would wait until morning, when Tyler’s brain was fully functioning again. Or, at least, when Tyler’s brain was functioning enough for him to remember more than a few seconds.

“Yeah,” Josh said.

“Thank you,” Tyler said. Josh looked at him. “This is a migraine. I remember this,” Tyler said, rubbing his temple with his free hand. “You took care of me.” Tyler smiled. It was contagious.

By the time they found their way to the center, and then to the apartments, and then to a room with a decent bed, Tyler was putting nearly all of his weight into Josh. He kept repeating that he was dizzy, forgetting that he’d already said it a hundred times. Josh finally let go of Tyler’s hand to get him under the sheets on the bed. The room smelled like cotton and rain and dirt, and it was almost too dark for Josh to see what he was doing. He got Tyler’s shoes off and then pushed his legs under the covers as well. Tyler’s eyes were half closed.

“I’m dizzy,” he said again.

“I know,” Josh answered. “Drink,” he said, holding out a water bottle for Tyler. Rather than grabbing onto the bottle, Tyler grabbed onto Josh’s hands, guiding them to his lips. He was still shaking slightly. His lips trembled when he swallowed. While he was drinking, Josh wondered where he was going to sleep. He didn’t want to intrude and sleep in the same bed as Tyler. He wanted to give him space, especially after a day like that. Tyler pushed his chin up, as a sign that he was done drinking, and Josh took the bottle away from his lips. Tyler didn’t let go of his hand. He held on as tightly as he could, his fingers wrapping into Josh’s palm.

“Stay.” His eyes were closed.

“Okay.” Josh climbed under the sheets next to him. Tyler was cold. His fingers traced over the lines in Josh’s palm.

“Thank you, Josh.” Tyler didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know where he was, or what had happened, or why he was now in bed with Josh. But he knew who Josh was. He knew his name. He remembered that much. For now, it had to be enough. For now, Josh pushed the more pressing issues away, leaving them to be a problem for the morning. For now, Tyler remembered him, remembered his name, and it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I had fun with this one. Good old migraines. Fun stuff. Leave a comment if you want! I love hearing from you guys. Any feedback is welcome! Also, I haven't forgotten about that oneshot. I'm gonna have time soon- spring break is coming up, so I'll crank it out around then. Thanks for reading!


	17. Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't update very quickly– strangely enough, after writing the migraine chapter, I got a migraine myself. Isn't that great? But here it is! A bit fluffier than usual; hope you enjoy!

He woke up in an instant, his nightmare existing as the only memory in his mind. It had seemed different, but at the same time, he knew that he’d had it before. The image of the ocean and the black blood and wide eyes began to fade slowly as his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room. The feeling of panic was replaced by confusion. He had no memory of where he was. He had no memory, period. Why did this realization feel so familiar to him?

There was an ache that traveled through his entire body, a pounding soreness in his muscles and bones. He felt as though he had been buried alive and was just coming up for air on the other side of the world. He closed his eyes and tried to remember.

The first thing that came back into his mind was his own name. _Tyler._ He couldn’t remember his last name, but it was good enough. The only other thing he remembered was bright red hair. He wondered if it was his own, but when he opened his eyes to check, he found that his hair wasn’t long enough to see without help. The room that he was in was old and dusty. Dark panels of wood made up the walls, running vertically around the perimeter of the room. Across from him was a window with yellow, thick glass between the panes. The curtain that framed it was full of holes, eaten through by bugs and torn by wind. Sunlight was faintly streaming through the glass onto the decaying floorboards. As his eyes traveled down to the carpet on the floor, he felt movement on the bed despite not having moved a muscle himself. He froze.

There was someone else with him on the mattress. Whoever it was, they pulled at the blanket that covered the two of them, sighed, and went back to his previous dead-still state. Tyler stayed frozen for a moment longer, fear making his muscles tense. Slowly, quietly, he turned his head tried to sneak a glance at who he was sharing a bed with.

Red hair. He remembered that. The person who was with him in the bed had red hair. It was faded, patches of blonde highlighting the cover. Some of it peeked out from under the blanket, practically glowing in the sunlight. There was a name in his head, somewhere, but he couldn’t find it. He couldn’t remember. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning up against the backboard of the bed.

There were still too many unknowns. All he remembered so far was his own name and a memory of red hair. Nothing else was coming back to him, not where he was or what he was doing there, sleeping in a bed with another man in a rotting house. There were things that felt familiar. The feeling of _forgetting_ felt familiar. Of not being able to remember. The person next to him felt familiar. The crumbling world felt familiar. But he couldn’t put memories into the world he was living in. The person beside him shifted again, this time yawning, rubbing his eyes. Tyler didn’t take his eyes away. His heart pounded, but he didn’t know why. Maybe he was afraid. Should he be afraid? He blinked, and found a pair of dark brown eyes staring at him from under the mess of red hair. His chest tightened, but he didn’t take his eyes away.

“Tyler?” The man said, sitting up slowly and sitting at the end of the bed, seemingly in an attempt to give Tyler space. He looked confused, cautious. He stared at Tyler, and Tyler stared back at him with an equal level of confusion, but he knew that there was fear in his eyes as well. “Ty, do you remember me?” Tyler blinked at him, and then slowly shook his head. He felt the need to trust this person, like an instinct. “It’s okay. You know me.”

“I know.”

“Do you remember my name?”

“No.”

“Josh.”

“ _Josh_.” It sounded familiar, but he didn’t _remember_ it. There was nothing that came with it. He felt frustrated. Josh stared at him, like he was expecting something, some big revelation, something important.

“You don’t remember.” Josh’s expression fell. It was as though he had just realized that he was lost, or that he’d lost something. Or both. Tyler felt guilt festering in his stomach. He _wanted_ to remember.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said. He didn’t know what else to say.

“You… do you remember anything? Anything at all?”

“I… your hair. I remember your hair. And my name.”

“That’s it?” Tyler searched his memory, trying to remember anything, anything at all, how he got there, where he came from, who Josh was, anything.

“I had a nightmare. Last night. I think.”

“About the ocean?” Tyler nodded, a little startled by the accuracy of Josh’s guess. Then again, it only reaffirmed that the dream was recurring. “Anything else?”

There was nothing. It was as though he had just woken up from a dreamless sleep, and his life was absent behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said. He wanted to remember, if only so that Josh would stop looking so defeated.

“Don’t apologize. It’ll come back to you.” He spoke with all the confidence that Tyler didn’t have in himself. Tyler paused and stared at him for a moment before speaking.

“Where are we?” he asked. Josh stood up and walked over to the window. Tyler watched him as he moved. His clothes were dirty, smeared with dust and dirt and sweat. Tyler wondered if he looked the same way. Josh looked out the window.

“Pennsylvania. The western part.”

“What is that?”

“What is what?” Josh asked, turning around.

“What’s a _Pennsylvania_?”

“Oh.” The defeated look flashed over his features again, but it quickly disappeared. “It’s a state. Like a territory. It’s a big part of the country that has a name.”

“Oh.”

“Um, yesterday, you got a migraine. A… a really bad migraine.” So that was why his bones ached so much. The word _migraine_ felt just as familiar as the word _Josh._ “You… that might actually be why you don’t remember anything right now.”

“Because of the migraine?”

“Yeah. Maybe… maybe it was just too much to remember.” Tyler shrugged. Josh said nothing for a moment, looking at Tyler, and then looking back out the window. “Do you want to eat something?” Tyler considered this, and then nodded. His stomach felt tender, but the feeling of hunger was definitely there. Josh rummaged through a backpack that was sitting at the end of the bed, pulling out some water bottles and a cardboard box. “There’s a proper kitchen downstairs. I want to know if I can get the stove to work.” Tyler swung his legs over the side of the bed and found that he was still wearing shoes. He untied them and took off his socks as well, trying to let his sore feet get some air. Josh looked own at his own shoes and then paused before doing the same. It seemed that they’d both went to bed with their shoes on. Tyler wondered if he was really that disoriented the night before to go to bed with his shoes on, and for Josh to do the same? He sighed and stood up. He was a little shaky on his feet. He felt Josh’s eyes on him.

“What’s that?” Tyler asked, nodding toward the box in Josh’s hands.

“Uh, oatmeal.” Josh examined the box more closely. “With brown sugar.”

“Huh.” They walked down the stairs to the lower level of the house. Josh fiddled with the stove for a while. It was a wood-burning stove, one that still had planks of wood inside it and a pile of firewood beside it. Josh spent a while messing with matches and kindling until finally the stove lit properly. He pulled his hand away as the fire flicked out. Tyler watched it grow slowly until Josh finally closed the metal hinge. He put a pot on the stove and poured in the water and oatmeal.

Eventually, the two of them were sitting across from each other at the table, a bowl of oatmeal in front of each of them. Tyler stared down at the sugar-sweetened mush, silently. Josh was silent, too, as he picked up his spoon and stuck it into his bowl, but he didn’t bring it back up to his mouth. Tyler knew the question that he was going to ask before it even left his lips.

“Do you remember anything?” Tyler felt his guilt grow.

“No.” Josh was still silent. “I’m trying,” he said. Josh nodded. They ate breakfast. Slowly, a few memories began surfacing in Tyler’s mind.

“Raiders,” he said. “That happened, right? There were raiders.” Josh looked shocked, and then the shock subsided into a smile.

“Yeah. Well, twice.”

“Twice?”

“Once when we met, and then once again a little while ago… which one are you remembering?”

“I don’t know. I think… I think I got stabbed.” The sentence sounded strange.

“That was the second time.”

“Huh.” They kept eating. Josh looked a little less dejected.

“And a crooked house.” Josh smiled at that, nodding.

“That was my house.”

“Why was it crooked?”

“It was sinking.”

“Oh.” Tyler took another bite of his oatmeal. His stomach was feeling better, and his head felt a little less foggy than before. Only slivers of memories were coming back to him, moments of time, snapshots. He remembered Shadows, collapsed buildings, walking miles upon miles through the wasteland. He remembered Josh’s hair. Every time he looked up at it, his mind went blank. He could feel the memories, all merged into one feeling, piled up in the corners of his mind. Tyler didn’t know how long they’d been traveling together, but it didn’t seem to matter. After a hundred conversations, a hundred passing glances, a hundred miles repeated over and over again, it was as though everything had combined itself into one feeling. A feeling of living.

Josh cleared his throat, and Tyler realized that he had been staring at his hair for who knows how long. He felt his face flush red, and he looked down at his bowl again.

“Sorry,” he said, picking at his oatmeal with the tip of his spoon. “I didn’t mean to stare.” He glanced up and saw that Josh was smiling.

“It’s fine. What are you thinking about?” Tyler paused.

“How long have I known you?” Josh was a little taken aback by the question. He thought about it for a moment.

“Two weeks? Maybe more. I’m not really sure, to be honest.”

“Okay.”

“Why?” Tyler shook his head. It wasn’t important. Or at least, it wasn’t important for Josh to know. It made Tyler less guilty, though. If he hadn’t known Josh for that long, maybe it was a little more okay for him to forget things. Then again, maybe it was worse. Two weeks of forgotten memories was a lot, a lot of conversations, shared experiences. Now Josh was the only one who remembered, and Tyler was left wondering whether or not he would ever know how they got to the little run-down house they were staying in.

After a while, the two of them were left scraping the last little bits of oatmeal out of their bowls in silence. Tyler was still searching his mind for any scrap of memory that would allow him to put things into chronological order, but things kept on coming in images and feelings and nothing was making any sense anymore. He just wanted to be _normal._

“We should probably get going,” Josh said after a while. Tyler looked up.

“Where?” Josh looked at him with confusion at first, which then slowly subsided into understanding.

“Oh. Right. You… yeah. Were heading east, towards the ocean.”

“Why?”

“I… you know what, maybe I’ll just start from the beginning.” And so he did. As they changed their clothes, put their shoes back on, and packed up, Josh started from the beginning, explaining how they met, what they did, where they were going. When they walked out the door, he was telling Tyler about the raiders that had attacked him, about the river they went to, about the notebooks that Tyler had let him read. Tyler remembered the notebooks. He remembered _a_ river. He didn’t know if it was the one Josh was talking about though.

As they walked down the highway, Josh told Tyler about his crooked house, about the first time Tyler told him about his nightmare, about their decision to go to the ocean. Tyler remembered the nightmare. He remembered it more clearly than his own name. Josh told him about the time he wandered off in the middle of the night, and the people they met in the town, and the river that they washed off in. He told Tyler about the scar that ran down his back, thick and pale. Tyler didn’t remember the scar. He didn’t remember the people. Josh told Tyler about Katie and Maya. When Tyler didn’t remember, Josh told him to look at the photo. Tyler remembered their eyes, familiar shades of blue and green, but nothing else.

Their conversation was repetitive; Josh told a story, Tyler would interject with _I remember_ or _that’s familiar,_ or he would say nothing, and Josh would know that the memory was lost. Josh wasn’t smiling anymore. As the stories went on, the ration got worse– if this was a test, Tyler was failing it. He remembered slivers and small details, but the whole of their journey was lost on him. He still felt guilty. He just wanted a solution, a simple fix, but it seemed that was too much to ask.

They were approaching a city when Josh finally got to the end of his stories. He told Tyler about his migraine, about Nate, about waking up in the farmhouse, and then Tyler was all caught up. He remembered the stove, breakfast, their brief, awkward conversations. Josh was trying to get him to remember the moments, but that wasn’t all. He was trying to get him to remember their friendship.

But Tyler couldn’t. And Josh had stopped trying. He went silent, looking down at his feet, his face hidden by the shadow of his hair, bright red hair. Why was _that_ the only thing Tyler could remember? Not Josh, not Josh’s personality, not his voice or his smile or even his _name_ , but his hair? Tyler clenched his fists, trying to remember, _still_ just _trying_ to remember, and Josh looked up at him. Tyler met his gaze and dug his palms into his eyes, willing his muscles into relaxation.

“Sorry,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “I’m sorry.”

“Tyler, you don’t–“

“No, Josh, I’m sorry. I forgot, and I can’t remember, and I’m _trying_ , but it just won’t… there’s too much, or not enough, I don’t know… it’s just gone.” Josh looked down again. He was silent. Tyler didn’t know what he wanted to hear. Forgiveness, maybe. Anger. Misery. Rage, even. A reaction. Josh just sighed.

“It’s not your fault.” As if Tyler didn’t know that. As if it made it better that it wasn’t his fault.

Tyler looked at Josh, at the red halo that surrounded his head. He kept looking until he tripped on a piece of asphalt that was sticking up out of the ground and barely managed to catch himself. Josh put a hand on his shoulder to make sure that he was okay, and the cold of his fingertips seeped into Tyler’s skin. It was familiar. He hated that it wasn’t anything more than familiar.

“You keep looking at my hair,” Josh said once Tyler was steady. Tyler looked down, blushing slightly.

“Yeah. It’s…” he didn’t want to repeat the word he’d said so many times already, _familiar, familiar, familiar._ It was more than that. “It’s comforting.” He looked up at Josh. “I remember it. It makes me remember _you._ ” Josh stared at Tyler, wide eyed, a dazed look on his face. “What?” Tyler asked, blushing even more now. Josh shook himself out of whatever trance he was in.

“No, I just– I had an idea.” Tyler raised his eyebrows. “Okay, so– I don’t know if you remember–“ Josh caught himself. “No, of course not– sorry– but a while ago, you explained this to me, this whole memory thing. You said that things all pile up on each other, that things that are the same are all sort of… sorted into the same memory, rather than organized chronologically.”

“Yeah, that… that sounds about right.” _Familiar._

“And around that time, you were remembering things really well. You knew me, and you knew where we were and what we were doing. I just had to remind you once in the morning and you were fine for the day. It was… it was great. But you said the _reason_ that was happening was because there was a _divide._ Memories were separated because you had a new factor.”

“You.”

“Me.”

“Okay, so…?”

“So what if I dye my hair?” Tyler stared at him. Up until that moment, everything made sense. Now, not so much.

“What?”

“Sorry. That was a bit of a jump.”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Okay– so, you said you remember my hair, right? You remember that it’s red.”

“Yeah.” _Familiar._

“So, what if now there’s a new factor? Hair color. Instead of pre-Josh and post-Josh, now its pre-Josh, red-hair-Josh, blue-hair-Josh, green-hair-Josh–“

“A divide.” It clicked.

“A divide,” Josh agreed. Tyler considered this. It was like a milestone, a landmark, something he could latch onto, something he could put into chronological order. Colors marked time instead of _time_ marking time. It was incredible. It was genius.

“That’s… you’re… it’s…” Tyler couldn’t find the words to express how perfect Josh was in that moment.

“Would it work?” Tyler blinked at him.

“We can find out, can’t we?” Suddenly, there was hope in his chest, nestled among all the fear and guilt and confusion. Josh grinned at him, his eyes bright, reflecting the light of the sun. _Familiar._

They found a drugstore not twenty minutes later. After prying the doors open and checking to make sure that there were no raiders or Shadows in between the shelves, they began searching. The isles were almost completely ransacked, wrappers and empty bags and boxes littering the ground where there were once energy bars and snack packs and water bottles. They weren’t looking for food or water, though. They made their way into the _hair care_ aisle, walking past old shampoos and fancy hair oils until they got to the hair dye at the end of the section. Josh smiled when he saw all of the colors, but after picking up a box of bleach, he turned to Tyler.

“What color?” He asked, a grin still plastered on his face. Tyler smiled back at him and then looked forward to the boxes of hair dye that lined the white rusted metal shelves. There was a wide array of colors, everything from red to green to gray. He considered every box before pulling out a package of light blue hair dye. It reminded him of the sky. Josh smiled and took the box from him. “Would you like to do the honors?” He said, peeling off the sticker from the top and sliding out the tube of dye. Tyler smiled and nodded.

For the next hour, Tyler stood behind Josh, rubbing bleach into his hair, careful to get it only on the longer part. He rinsed it out with water to reveal blonde curly locks, and decided that the next color Josh should go after blue would be blonde. Maybe even yellow. They would have to stock up on hair dye. What a strange thing to need in the wasteland. After rinsing out the bleach, he started smearing the blue paste into Josh’s hair, and for a while, they just sat and waited for it to set in. Josh told Tyler stories about his time in the wasteland. When he started telling one about a time that he spent two weeks in a holding cell because of a sandstorm, Tyler stopped him.

“You’ve told me that one before,” Tyler said, smiling. Josh smiled too.

“Yeah. I have.” Tyler smiled wider. The dye set. After a while, Tyler washed it out with a bottle of water he’d found underneath one of the shelves. It was amazing how bright it was. The red was gone, replaced by sky blue, ocean blue, Katie’s eye color blue, the same color blue that lined some of his old notebooks, the same color blue that Tyler had seen a pair of sneakers in at the sports store in his old town, the same color blue that reflected in the river where he and Josh had gotten water for the first time together, in the river where Josh had found a new scar on Tyler’s body, where he’d put his frozen fingers against Tyler’s skin. Tyler stared at the blue curls that gathered on Josh’s head. He still expected them to be red, even as he saw them, even as he was the one who had dyed them with his own hands, even as the dye still settled into the beds of his fingernails. Everything was sharper, now. He didn’t know if it was real, or if it was just in his head, if he was just convincing himself that this had worked because it _had to work_ , but the memories were real. The ones that were coming back. They were real. They couldn’t be anything other than real. And Josh was blue, now. He wasn’t red. This was new. This was time, passing. Before was red, now was blue. Now there was a timeline. It wasn’t complete; it didn’t have all the right details in all the right stories, but it existed. It was enough for Tyler.

Josh cleared his throat. Tyler realized for the third time that day that he was staring at Josh’s hair, but this time, he could feel that something was different, not just with Josh, but with himself. He remembered Josh, now. He remembered his face, his smile. His voice. The way his eyes went all squinty when he laughed. He remembered. And Josh could tell. Tyler could see it in his face that he could tell.

“Does it look good?” He asked, smiling. Tyler grinned, then, and laughed. _Really_ laughed. He couldn’t hold it in.

“Yeah, yeah it’s– hold on, I’ll find you a mirror.” He jumped to his feet and ran to the _bath supply_ section of the store, pulling a countertop mirror off of one of the shelves. He rubbed the dust off of it as he brought it back to Josh, who eyed himself in the reflective surface before lowering it and looking at Tyler. “Well?” Tyler asked.

“I love it.” They both smiled. Josh put the mirror on the ground, his smile falling into something more serious. “Does it help?” Tyler reached out, half-subconsciously, and ran his fingers through Josh’s hair. It was soft, still wet from water. Blue drips ran down his face, over his cheekbones, off of his jaw. Josh was watching him, but Tyler was staring intently at his own hand where it wove in and out of strands and curls of blue. Finally, he took his hand away. It was stained with dye.

“Yeah,” he said, watching as blue stained water met with blue stained skin as it collected in the creases of his palm. “It helps.” _Familiar._ More than familiar. _Remembered._ “It’s perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it! As always, leave feedback if you want! I really appreciate knowing that you guys are enjoying the fic– it makes my day! Thanks for reading :)


	18. Teeth

As it turned out, Pennsylvania wasn’t that much more _city_ than Ohio. The majority of it was farms, just as before, intersected by highways and back roads and crashed cars. There were more trees. On parts of the highway the two of them were walking on, trees stretched over above them and formed a canopy of sorts. The shade was much appreciated. The cold breezes left over from winter and spring were fading, and the sun was hot and relentless. Josh didn’t sunburn very easily– he wasn’t sure why, considering how pale he was. Surprisingly, even though Tyler tanned easily, he also burned. The skin under his eyes and on the back of his hands was becoming red, and though he didn’t complain, Josh knew that he was uncomfortable. Every time they brought out their water bottles, Tyler dripped some onto the skin on his hands.

Only three days after getting into Pennsylvania, after Tyler’s migraine, the sky began to darken the way it always did when it was flooding with dust. Tyler thought it looked pretty. Josh knew what it meant immediately. They holed themselves up in the storm cellar of a nearby house and listened to the shrieking of the winds outside. At one point, part of the roof caved in, and the two of them had to huddle in the corner to avoid getting dust in their eyes.

Tyler had another nightmare. Josh woke him up as soon as he heard the panicked breathing.

The storm ended, and they were low on water. Josh spent a while looking over the maps, trying to figure out where the nearest stream was; it ran just near a town that had once been called Clarion.

Tyler was remembering more, slowly. It made Josh’s muscles relax every time Tyler referenced one of their old conversations or experiences or even just looked at Josh like he was familiar, like they knew each other. The friendliness came back into Tyler’s voice. Every so often, when they were resting or setting up their sleeping rolls or simply talking, Tyler would reach out and run a hand through Josh’s hair. Josh would watch him as he examined the color, as he slowly reminded himself of the passing of time, as he put things into an order. Josh wondered what it was like in Tyler’s head, what it was like to forget that things happened linearly. He wondered what it felt like to forget and remember, forget and remember, forget.

But when Tyler wasn’t confused, when he knew who he was and who Josh was and what they were doing, Josh felt safe. He felt like there were two versions of Tyler; the defensive one, the confused one, the one that was just trying to survive and remember– and then the friendly one, the sarcastic one, the one that made jokes and played the ukulele and smiled. As a result, Josh had started acting in two different ways around Tyler. He was careful with the defensive one, care-free with the smiling one. It seemed to be working so far.

After a day of walking when the storm was over, they reached the river that ran south through Clarion. Tyler barely took the time to take his backpack off and kick off his shoes before throwing himself into the water, clothes and all. Josh couldn’t help but laugh as he popped back up from under the water, a grimace on his face.

“It’s _freezing_!” He shouted, his voice echoing a little through the trees. Josh laughed harder.

“Wow, really? I wouldn’t have thought,” Josh said, dropping his backpack to the ground. He untied the laces on his boots and put them off to the side. Nothing was worse than getting a blister from a wet pair of shoes. Well, that wasn’t true. There were much worse things than getting a blister. Dying, for example. But Josh preferred to think on the petty side to avoid slipping into fear. He jumped in the water.

“You got me wet!” Tyler groaned at him when he let his head break above the surface.

“You’re already wet,” Josh said, splashing water at him. Tyler pulled his shirt off over his head, dunking it under the water to get the dust and sweat off. They had spare clothes, ones that didn’t smell like death, but until the clothes they were wearing were destroyed, they didn’t want to trade them out.

Josh watched Tyler as he washed the shirt. The scar on his back was still startling. Smaller marks freckled his shoulders and arms. Everyone had scars. The wasteland was brutal. But the one that stretched across Tyler’s back was raised and dark and it wasn’t one that could come from tripping and falling. Josh peeled his own shirt off and started to scrub at the dirt stains. Maybe it had come from a Shadow, but then again, the claws that they had weren’t that big, and they wouldn’t go that deep. Tyler took off his pants and socks, beginning to wash them too. Josh looked away from the scar. He wasn’t about to get into this argument again. If he’d learned one thing about Tyler, it was that he didn’t like guessing, or speculation. Josh didn’t mind. Sometimes, it was nice to keep his thoughts in his own head. Josh undid his jeans and nearly fell over trying to get them off.

“What’s that from?” Tyler asked. He was staring at Josh’s chest. Josh looked down. He’d forgotten about the marks that were there, on the right side. He pulled the denim over his feet and threw his pants over to the shore.

“Shadow.”

“Jeez,” Tyler said, ringing his pants out and throwing them to the shore where they landed on some rocks.

“Yeah. I think it used to be a dog. Big teeth, you know?” Tyler grimaced and looked down at the water, scooping some of it up in his hands and washing his arms off.

“Did it hurt?” Josh looked at the raised scars. He remembered the Shadow, the teeth that stuck out of its mouth like they were glued on by a five-year-old.

“Yeah,” Josh said. He didn’t want to keep thinking about it. That had been the first time he really thought he was going to die.

“I, um. I have marks that look like that. On my leg.” Tyler lifted his thigh out of the water just enough for Josh to see the bite marks. Josh cringed.

“Oh.”

“I don’t remember getting them, though.”

“I think… I think you wrote about that in one of your notebooks.” Tyler nodded, letting his leg drop back under the surface of the water.

“Huh,” Tyler said, letting the subject drop. Josh turned his attention back to cleaning off his body. There was still a scab over the gunshot wound in his side. He wondered how Tyler’s injury looked, but before he could ask, Tyler cursed. “My socks!” He yelled, lunging after the little ball of fabric that was slowly floating down the river. Josh stifled a laugh. Tyler slipped around on the rocks at the bottom of the river, trying to catch his socks as they drifted further down. He caught hold of them a moment later before losing his footing on the uneven stones and falling into the water again. Mud clouded around his ankles. Josh laughed, but he stopped when Tyler popped his head up again, a panicked look on his face. He scrambled back upstream, towards Josh.

“What?” Josh asked, confused. Tyler dropped his socks and they floated downstream again as he scrubbed his hands in the river, streams of red coming off into the water. Josh’s heart lurched. “Did you cut yourself?”

“No, it– it’s not mine, there–“ Tyler gagged. “There was a body at the bottom of the river. I fell on it. I… I think my hand went through the ribcage.” Josh stared at Tyler. The blood was gone from his fingers, and he stared down at his hands.

“Are you okay?” Tyler sighed.

“Yeah. Sorry. It was just…”

“I get it.”

“Can we go more upstream?”

“Yeah,” Josh said. They put distance between them and the body. Josh made a note that they definitely had to boil the water that they got from this river before drinking it. He wondered who the person was who was left to rot at the bottom of this river. There was no end to the strange things that a person could find out here. A body at the bottom of a river, a boy with no memory. Josh sighed and washed dust out of his hair, watching as blue dye trickled into the river.

A while later, they were walking away with water bottles full of water. It was cleaner than Josh had expected it to be, just looking at it in the bottle, but he didn’t think that he or Tyler could drink it without sterilizing it first, especially after knowing that there was a body in the river. Josh examined the maps while they walked east again, running a hand through his wet hair. It came away stained blue.

“If we walk a little more north-east, then we’ll hit the city. Clarion. And we can stop there.” Tyler nodded. Josh remembered what he had wanted to ask Tyler before.

“How’s your back?” he asked. Tyler looked over at him, confused. Josh wondered whether or not he should clarify, but then Tyler’s expression changed.

“Oh. Um. Wait.” He was trying to remember. He lowered his eyes to the ground. “I don’t…” He stopped himself before saying the last word. “I’m trying to remember.”

“Do you want me to tell you–?”

“Raiders! That was it, right?” Josh smiled. “T…two of them. In a city.”

“Yeah,” Josh said.

“You still had red hair,” Tyler said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I did.”

“How long have you had blue hair?”

“Three days.”

“Oh.” Tyler scratched his head and then pulled his wet shirt forward, unsticking it from his skin. “I remember. There was a storm.”

“Yeah,” Josh said. At some point after Tyler had his migraine, he’d gotten into the habit of saying his memories out loud. Josh didn’t know if it was for him or for Tyler’s own sanity, but it made him feel better whenever Tyler would remember something, especially something from a long time ago, or something small, insignificant details that remained in his mind despite all odds.

“I like the blue,” Tyler said, smiling and looking out at the road in front of them. They could see the city in the distance.

“You picked it.”

“I did?” Josh nodded. “Sick.” Josh laughed. Watching Tyler rediscover moments of his life was interesting, especially when the moments weren’t anything awful, as they sometimes were. They drew closer to the city. Josh took his gun out, just so that he would have it at the ready. He didn’t want to be caught off guard like last time. Tyler did the same, and Josh realized he’d never seen Tyler shoot a gun. He wondered how his aim was. He certainly knew how to throw a knife.

The city was crowded with buildings and homes and trucks. The two of them passed by a twelve-car pileup that blocked the highway on the way in. Tyler’s expression had turned hard, alert. He looked over at Josh, and Josh wondered what was going through his head. The sun was slowly setting. They needed to find somewhere to sleep before it became impossible to see.

They were walking through the alleyways behind storefronts when there was a noise like falling rocks, like someone dropping something. The two of them froze immediately, looking up and around, both raising their guns. There wasn’t another sound. Josh looked at Tyler and raised a finger to his lips, signaling for him to be as quiet as possible. Tyler nodded.

They alley was in bad shape. Garbage bags littered the ground. There were holes in the ground, and the asphalt that was once set into them was broken up in pieces all around them. It was getting darker. Josh had to step carefully to avoid twisting his ankle or stepping on something that would make a lot of noise. He kept his eyes up, glancing up at the windows that loomed above them.

There was a sudden sound of creaking metal behind him, but what he turned around to see wasn’t what he expected. Tyler had his hands clamped over his mouth, his eyes closed tight. There was a noise building in the back of his throat like a whine, like a scream held back. Josh looked down. Around his ankle, a bear trap was clamped hard. Blood was seeping into his jeans. Josh didn’t know what to do. He stared. Tyler dropped, kneeling on one knee with his other leg jutting out in front of him. He took a shaky breath in, and the sound of his breath catching in his chest was enough to snap Josh out of whatever trance he was in.

“Tyler… shit…” he whispered. He put his hand against the metal of the trap. The jagged teeth dug deep into Tyler’s leg. “Shit,” he repeated. He put his other hand onto the other jaw of the trap and tried to pull it apart. Tyler flinched hard and grabbed onto Josh’s wrist, pulling his hand off of the metal. He shook his head, his eyes still closed tight.

“Wait.” The word was barely audible. “Just wait. Just…” Josh nodded, letting Tyler catch his breath. He looked at the bear trap. It was old, rusted. There was a chain on one end that was attached to a metal spike in the ground. Josh wrapped his hands around the spike, but no matter how hard he pulled, it wouldn’t come up out of the ground. He cursed again. Tyler’s eyes were open now. He was staring warily at Josh.

“What do we do?” He whispered. Blood was dripping down into his shoe, onto the ground. Josh looked at Tyler, then back at the trap. “Josh!” Tyler pushed Josh over abruptly. He shot his gun at the place where Josh’s head had been a moment earlier. From behind him, Josh could feel arms around his shoulders, the cold steel of a gun against his head. _Raiders?_ He shoved his elbows back, one of them hitting something solid. There were more. Another gunshot sounded. Josh didn’t know if it came from Tyler’s or not, but there was someone kicking the gun from his hand. There was another set of hands on Josh’s other bicep, and he heard the safety release on the gun against his head. Tyler threw a punch at the person who kicked the gun out of his hand, but another raider appeared. Without a moment of hesitation, they slammed their boot down against the jaws of the bear trap, forcing it to close even farther.

Tyler screamed, curling up on himself, shaking. His voice echoed through the alley. Josh’s stomach churned. The raider didn’t take their boot up off of the bear trap. Josh wanted to shoot them all. He saw his gun resting on the ground, too far away to reach.

“Your traps work well, Dee.” It was a woman’s voice. She ground her boot down harder onto the metal. The teeth of the trap shifted and jolted down a little farther, and Tyler choked and grabbed onto her ankle. She _smiled._

“I told you they would,” said a voice from behind Josh, a man’s voice. The woman turned to look at him. She had dark eyes, buzzed hair, a rag tied around her neck. She smiled at Josh, too. He glared at her.

“Oops! Sorry, am I hurting your friend?” Still staring at Josh, she forced her boot down even more. If Josh had blinked, he would have missed Tyler’s movements. In a second, he pulled a knife out from his shoe and plunged it deep into the woman’s calf. Josh felt pride swell in his chest, but it was short lived.

“ _Bitch!”_ The woman yelled. The man who was standing near Tyler’s head kicked him hard, and Tyler slumped against the ground, unmoving. Josh lunged forward, but rough hands pulled him back. The woman cursed again and pulled the knife out of her leg. “Fucking raiders,” she muttered.

“What?” Josh asked. _Raiders?_ Did she think that _they_ were the raiders?

“I’ll bet you pulled this knife out of someone’s dead fingers, huh?” She said, throwing it to the ground.

“Wh– no! Wait, you– you don’t understand.” This was bad. This was _bad._ Josh had met people like this before, people who killed raiders before the raiders could kill them. He didn’t mind it, morally. Raiders killed all the time. The only problem was, he and Tyler _weren’t_ raiders.

“Oh, don’t I?”

“ _No._ We… we’re not raiders. We’re just traveling–“ One of the people behind him slammed their knee into the back of his leg and forced him to kneel on the ground. “ _Please._ ” He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want _Tyler_ to die.

“ _Please,_ ” The woman mocked. She finally took her foot off of the bear trap. “You’ll say anything to survive. You’re all the same.”

“You don’t–“ Pain jolted through Josh’s skull from behind.

“Shut up! Jeez.” It was a different voice than before, the other person who was holding him in place. A different woman. The first woman smirked. She pulled Tyler’s backpack off of his limp form, opening up the zipper and pulling out the notebook that rested at the top. Josh watched her, silently, his look scathing.

“Aw, look. They’re keeping a record.” She flipped through the pages. “Hasn’t anyone told you? History means nothing anymore. Or did you steal this off of someone? Don’t answer that. I’m sick of your voice. Dee, how do you open this trap?”

“Uh...”

“You don’t know, do you.”

“Yank it open?”

“Christ,” the woman muttered. She shoved the notebook back into the backpack. “Well? Come yank it.” The man who had been standing near Tyler went and took Dee’s place holding Josh’s arm. Dee was much bigger than Josh had imagined him. He had a huge beard, and looked much older than Josh, and especially older than Tyler. He put his hands on the jaws of the trap and pulled. One of the jaws pulled free from Tyler’s leg. The other side was still stuck. The woman leaned over and unhooked it from the metal teeth, and when Tyler’s leg was clear, Dee let go. The trap snapped back closed. Tyler grimaced when his leg was dropped back to the ground, but he didn’t wake up. Josh prayed that he didn’t have a concussion. On top of everything that was wrong in Tyler’s brain, he didn’t need a concussion.

“Damn. That thing’s sharp, Dee. Brutal.” There was no hint of apology in the voice that came from behind him. It was almost awe, appreciation.

“Listen, we’re not raiders,” Josh said quickly, trying to get the words out before he was hit again. “We’re trying to get to the sea. We’re just passing through, we– please, you don’t have to do this.” The woman looked at him.

“I haven’t done _anything_ yet.”

“I know people like you– you kill raiders. I’m all for it, let the sons of bitches die– but we’re _not. Raiders._ ”

“Good to know,” the woman said. She looked up and nodded at the people standing behind Josh, and the next thing he knew, the world was dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger? I'll try to post again by Friday, so y'all won't have to wait too long. Thanks for reading! Leave any feedback you want. Oh, an I posted my one shot, in case any of you are interested! Until next time :)


	19. Why are you afraid?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy I'm actually posting before Friday! Wow! Enjoy!! >:)

It was the sea. It was the sea, but it wasn’t the sea. Tyler was floating on his back, skin sticky with blood and ink. He’d long since given up on swimming to the shore, on trying to escape the vastness of the ocean, on trying to escape the panic that festered in his chest. It was impossible to breathe without smelling the stench of metal and death. The waves carried him, rocked him, until finally, they washed him up on the shore.

It wasn’t sand beneath his skin. It was glass. Tiny, tiny pieces of glass. He was afraid that if he moved, he would be cut thousands and thousands of times, over and over. And so he laid there, staring up at the sky, trapped. Someone was walking towards him. Something.

He recognized her. There was no name to put to her face, but he recognized her. She had someone with her this time, someone Tyler recognized as well. It wasn’t human. She wasn’t either. He didn’t know how he could tell, but he could. They loomed above him, watching him where he laid on the glass shore, the waves of ink and blood lapping at his skin.

She bent down, kneeling on the glass. Tyler could feel streams of her blood trailing past him, under his skin, out to the sea. She put a hand to his face, leaning over his body. The other thing stood behind her, a smile growing on its face where there should never have been a mouth. Her face was just above his, blocking out the sky.

“ _Run,_ ” she whispered. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t move. Her eyes began to melt, dripping out of their sockets and into his mouth. He couldn’t scream. The hand at his cheek began to burn. She raked her nails down his skin and left lines of darkness, gaping holes that didn’t bleed, holes that wafted out smoke, and he wondered if his insides were on fire.

“ _It wasn’t your fault,”_ the other spoke. It had a voice like a tree being torn apart in a thunderstorm “ _It wasn’t your fault.”_ It reached forward, slowly, and put its hand down Tyler’s throat. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t scream. “ _It wasn’t your fault.”_ More smoke poured from the lines on his cheekbones. The hand stayed where it was, lodged in between his teeth. It was the fingers that began to move, to grow, to stretch down Tyler’s throat and tear through the flesh under his skin. “ _It wasn’t your fault.”_

Tyler cried blue hair dye and river water.

His heart was pulled out from his mouth, but it wasn’t his heart. It wasn’t his heart. It beat and pulsed and squirmed and it wasn’t his heart.

“ _Why are you afraid?”_ The other asked. Tyler couldn’t speak. “ _Why are you afraid?”_ It demanded, its voice ringing in Tyler’s ears, a thunderstorm in his mind. “ _WHY ARE YOU AFRAID?”_

The ocean was gone. In its wake was a forest, upside down, growing from the sky. Tyler was the ocean. The glass was the ocean. The sky was the shore, and his heart was in his hands, only it wasn’t his heart, it wasn’t his heart, it wasn’t _his_ heart. The other began to laugh, and the familiar one began to cry, and Tyler began to scream, but he couldn’t scream, he _couldn’t scream._ The sound was being ripped from the cavity in his chest where his heart no longer rested and it wasn’t his voice.

“ _Why are you afraid?”_ The other asked.

“ _It wasn’t your fault,”_ The familiar one said.

“Run.” The voice was his own, pulled from his own lips and thrown at the familiar one. She appeared in front of him, her back towards him, but still facing him, her neck snapping and bending at impossible angles. There were no eyes in the sockets of her face. Instead, there were ants and maggots and beetles, crawling, contained within her skull.

“ _Run?”_ She repeated, a question. Her voice was not hers. Tyler didn’t know who’s voice it was, but it wasn’t hers. “ _You want to die.”_ He nodded.

“No.”

“ _You want to die.”_

“ _No.”_

_“IT’S YOUR FAULT.”_ Her eyes were back, black, red, growing, pulsing, and then they weren’t eyes, they were Tyler’s heart, but it _wasn’t his heart_.

“I want to die.” She smiled, and her teeth were wasps.

“ _Run.”_

***

 

Tyler woke up with his scream caught in his throat, refusing to exit his lungs. He put a hand to his chest and felt his heart thudding against his skin. Somehow, it wasn’t comforting. His breath wouldn’t go _out_ , so he inhaled instead, the air scraping down his throat until it wouldn’t go anymore. His vision cleared. The world came into focus. Somehow, being out of the dream was almost as confusing as being _in_ it, though a little less… terrifying. His hands were still shaking. He brought them up to his face to wipe at his eyes. He hadn’t realized that he was crying.

The room was dark, barren, with cement walls and a single light source. A basement. Around one of his ankles was a thick bandage. Around the other was a rope, tied to the bedframe. His stomach lurched. He had no memory of where he was. When he blinked, he saw the girl and her eyes full of bugs and the other and his _words_. He blinked again, and they were gone. He turned his head and found himself staring into green eyes. He blinked. The eyes remained. He blinked again.

“That was an interesting way to wake up,” the eyes said. A woman. A woman? _Who…?_ Tyler remained silent. “Nightmare?” He didn’t dare move a muscle. She… she was real. Wasn’t she? She seemed real. Why was it so hard to tell? “I’ll take that as a yes,” she muttered, raising her eyebrows. She leaned forward in the chair she was sitting in, and the light caught her cheekbones. “Right. Well. I’ve got one job here, and that’s to figure out whether or not you’re a threat. Understand?” A threat? He wasn’t a threat. Was he? He didn’t feel like a threat. _Run._ “ _Understand?”_ He shuddered involuntarily, and the motion sent a wave of pain through his leg. What happened? “Jeez, are you mute or something?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What?”

“You asked me if I understand. I don’t.” _Buy time_. He had to remember. He had to _remember_ , damn it, remember where he was, what he was doing, why he was there.

“Oh. Well, your friend seems to be entertaining the idea that you two _aren’t_ raiders, and luckily for you, at least _one_ person here believes him.”

“Friend?” He had a vague feeling of loneliness, but nothing else.

“Yes. Friend. The one you were with.” _Say something._ He couldn’t remember.

“O-oh. Right.” She could see right through him. He knew it. He _knew_ it. _Run. Run. Run._

“Right. So. Understand now?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” _Run._ Run where? The voice echoed in his head.

“Prove to me that you’re not a threat.”

“How?” The question wasn’t so much directed at her as it was directed at himself. How the hell was he supposed to _prove it?_ He didn’t even know who he was, _where_ he was. How was he supposed to prove that he wasn’t a threat if he didn’t know it to be true?

“You tell me.” Tyler ran a hand over his face. _Think, think, think, remember, damn it._ There was nothing. Nothing helpful, at least. A river, a nightmare, a Shadow, a tattoo. It didn’t help that his heart was still hammering against his ribs. What could he say? _What could he say?_ She was staring at him intently.

“I…” He looked around the room. “Where am I? What happened to my leg?”

“Basement. Bear trap.”

“Helpful.”

“Thanks.”

“Who are you?”

“You’re not helping your case.”

“ _You’re_ not helping, period.”

“I’m not supposed to be helping. Don’t you get it?”

“ _No._ ”

“Jeez, kid–“

“Don’t call me kid.”

“Idiot, then.” Tyler rolled his eyes. He felt a throbbing at the side of his head.

“Tyler.” She stared at him. “My name is Tyler.” It was the only thing he knew for sure, and even then, there was a hint of doubt in the back of his mind.

“ _Tyler,_ then.” God, she was infuriating. “You’re stalling. Why?” _Because I can’t remember whether or not I’m a good person._

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Give me a break, okay?”

“Why? What, am I supposed to feel bad for you? Boo hoo, I’m Tyler and I got my leg stuck in a bear trap like an _idiot,_ I get nightmares and I cry in my sleep–“

“Stop.”

“We all live fucked up lives. Get over yourself.” Tyler stared at her. What was he supposed to say? He pursed his lips and stayed silent. She watched him carefully, waiting for his response, but he refused to give it to her. “Alright. You’re not an ass, I’ll give you that. Some people wind up here, and I shit talk them like that, and they try to rip my head off, or tell me their sob story, or both.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” She smirked at him.

“Doesn’t mean you’re not a bad person, though. You haven’t proven anything.”

“You wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said.”

“Try me.” _Damn it._ He was bluffing. He’d been bluffing since he woke up. Now the only thing left to do was tell the truth, and he didn’t want to do that either. _Damn it._ “Or I could kill you now.” She pulled a gun out of her waistband and pointed it at Tyler’s head. It took all the restraint he had not to flinch away or beg for his life. He stared down the barrel like he’d seen it a hundred times. Maybe he had. He couldn’t remember. “You’re a weird kid.”

“Thanks.” She lowered the gun.

“How old are you?” _Damn it._

“I don’t remember.” He answered honestly. Another second of delay and it would have been awkward. She just laughed.

“Been a while since someone asked, huh?” He shrugged.

“I guess.”

“You look young. Not _young_ young, but… young.”

“Thank… you…” She rolled her eyes at him, tapping the gun against her thigh.

“Tick tock, Tyler. Now I’m getting bored.”

“I _don’t know–“_

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t know what I want from you. Most people say _something,_ though. A life story. A prayer. A curse. _Something_. Do you _want_ to die?” The words were almost out of his mouth already before he caught them, _I want to die, I want to die._ Why did they sound so true when they felt so wrong? He shook his head. “Say it.” Her tone startled him.

“I don’t want to die,” he said.

“ _Why?”_ He didn’t know. He didn’t remember. He couldn’t breathe right anymore. “Answer, Tyler. Tick tock.” She tapped the gun against her leg again. _I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know._ The girl and the other echoed in his head, _you want to die, you want to die_. Their voices were memories, but they weren’t. They were real. “Why?”

“I–“

There was a memory clawing its way to the front of Tyler’s mind, and he didn’t want it to be there. The girl, a hole blown into her skull, eyes wide, _dead_. The woman fired her gun into the ground and the sound made Tyler confess.

“I don’t remember!” He had his eyes shut tight. The shot echoed in his ears, diminishing into silence, and when there was no sound left in the room, he let his eyes open.

“You don’t remember _what?_ ”

“Anything.”

“You remember your name.”

“I remember my name,” Tyler repeated, though he wasn’t sure it was true. He ran his hands through his hair, gripping the back of his neck. “I remember my name, I remember a tattoo, a river, scars, lots of scars, I… I remember the sea. A body.”

“A body.” He nodded. “Whose body?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Did you kill them?”

“No. Maybe. No. I don’t remember.” The room was silent again.

“Why don’t you want to die?” _You want to die. I want to die. Run._

“I don’t remember.” The woman got up and walked away, up the stairs in the back corner of the room. She unlocked the door at the top, stepped through, and closed it behind her. The light flickered. Tyler was crying again, but he didn’t know why. He didn’t remember why.

 

 

***

 

Josh stared at the woman in front of him intently, and she stared back, matching the solemn look on his face like a mirror. She wasn’t the same as the one who had stepped on the bear trap while Tyler’s leg was still in it, though the fact didn’t soften his attitude towards the situation. The room was silent, though it could hardly be called a room. There was a bed, on which he was sitting, and to which he was tied to by his wrist. There was a chair, on which the woman sat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. There were a few lights hanging from the ceiling. One of them was burned out. The woman blinked at him, and he blinked back. They hadn’t said anything since she walked down there a few moments ago. She didn’t introduce herself. Josh didn’t introduce himself. A question burned at the back of his throat, but he didn’t know who was supposed to be the first one to speak. The woman blinked again. He blinked back, and asked.

“Where’s Tyler.” It was a demand more than anything else. The woman smiled and leaned back.

“Here. Somewhere. Weird kid, I’ll tell you that.”

“What did you do to him?”

“ _I_ didn’t do anything. He’s the one who stepped in the bear trap.”

“You’re the ones who set the trap.” She paused.

“True.” Josh tried to move his hands into his lap, but the rope on his right wrist was too short. “I talked with him, earlier. He didn’t ask about you. I even mentioned you, but no. Though, honestly, I think he was a little _flustered_ to say the least. Must’ve been one hell of a nightmare to wake up crying.” _Shit._

This wasn’t good. Not only had Tyler woken up from a nightmare, but he’d woken up from a nightmare tied to a bed in a room he didn’t recognize with a woman who probably wanted to kill him. This woman. Who probably wanted to kill _Josh_ as well. This wasn’t good. She leaned forward again.

“You really care about him. You want to know how I can tell?” He stayed silent. “You look absolutely _mortified_ right now. Why?” He just stared blankly at her, refusing to answer. “God, both of you are just _infuriating!”_ She groaned, pushing some stray hairs out of her face. “Listen. I have a job. I’m the one who decides whether or not you two are raiders, whether or not you two are _threats._ And your buddy, Tyler– he couldn’t even answer me when I asked him _why he didn’t want to die._ And you, _you_ are giving me the cold shoulder. I could just shoot you now, do you get that? I have a gun, and I have permission.”

“We’re not raiders.” She rolled her eyes.

“Finally.”

“We’re not. We’re just traveling.”

“Where.”

“To the sea.”

“Why.” Josh didn’t want to explain. If he explained, it opened the door for the woman to manipulate Tyler, to use his mind against him. But if he didn’t explain, it opened the door for the woman to load her gun and shoot them both between the eyes. “ _Why.”_

“Tyler gets nightmares. About the sea. He doesn’t… we want to know why, so we’re going to the sea.”

“What happened at the sea?”

“I don’t know.”

“He won’t tell you?”

“He… he doesn’t remember.”

“Oh, right. He said that to me a lot. _I don’t remember._ What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing’s wrong with him.”

“God, enough with your _pride._ What’s _wrong_ with him?” Josh bit his tongue. This wasn’t the time to argue. He just needed to explain.

“He can’t remember things right. It all goes away or merges together, and sometimes he just zones out and forgets what he was doing.” Josh remembered the times that it had happened while they were walking, when Tyler would just suddenly stop and stare ahead. Josh would just sit down and drink some water, waiting for him to snap out of it.

“That… that’s _it?_ Why the hell is that so hard to explain? You– you two are treating this like some _huge discovery_ , being all secretive–“

“He probably didn’t remember that his memory doesn’t work.” She blinked. “When he wakes up from nightmares, he forgets. He panics.”

“Oh.” She narrowed her eyes. “Huh. That… huh. That explains some things.”

“We started off in Ohio,” Josh said, taking the opportunity to further convince her that they weren’t dangerous. “And we’ve been walking for a while, trying to get to the shore. We’ve come across raiders, okay? They’ve tried to take our stuff, tried to kill us–“

“Raiders kill raiders all the time.”

“We’re not raiders–“

“Prove it.”

“I can’t–“

“Prove it.”

“Will you just–“

“ _Prove it.”_

“They killed my sisters.” The woman didn’t say anything. “Raiders. A big bald one and a little skinny one with a knife, and Abby screamed my name when they murdered her.” All the emotion had drained from Josh’s voice. He’d said all of this before, out loud, to himself, over and over and over again so he would never forget it. “All they wanted was her shoes. That was it. Her shoes. They killed Ashley because she was trying to protect me.” The woman leaned back in her chair, but she showed no change in her emotion. “If you want me to prove that I’m a good person, I can’t. I’ve killed people. I killed the people who were trying to kill Tyler when I met him. I kill the ones that try to kill me.”

“Killing someone doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to decide that.” She shrugged.

“I’ve already decided.” Josh shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “So that’s your sob story, huh? Your sisters got killed by raiders, so, what? You _vowed_ never to _be like them_?”

“No,” Josh said. “I didn’t vow anything. I already wasn’t like them.” She made a little _huh_ noise.

“And Tyler?”

“I don’t know what his life like was before, but he’s… he’s a good person.”

“And what if he’s killed someone?”

“He’s a good person.”

“You already said, you don’t know him. I doubt that he even knows himself. No one out here has made all the right decisions. No one is a good person.”

“You asked me to prove it anyway, though.” She pursed her lips. “I can’t. I can’t prove it. But Tyler is good. He doesn’t deserve this, any of this. Not being trapped here, not being out in the wasteland.”

“No one deserves it.”

“Some people do.”

“The people who killed your sisters?”

“Yes. No. They deserve worse.” The woman stared at him. She was silent, looking at him as though she was trying to figure him out, as though he was an enigma.

“Do you want to die, Josh?” She asked finally. Josh paused, and then answered.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not lonely anymore.”

“Then you wanted to die before?” He hesitated, but there was no one there but him and this woman he didn’t know. He confessed.

“Yes.”

“And why didn’t you, then?”

“Because I was afraid.”

“Why?”

“What if death is as lonely as life?” The question had echoed in his head for years after his parents were gone, after his siblings had died, after he was left alone to survive and nothing more. Saying it now made his chest tighten. “Then I would be alone, forever. I figured, at least I have a chance when I’m alive.”

“And then you met Tyler.” Josh nodded. “He doesn’t remember you.”

“He will. He always does.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll start over.” She stared at him, and then stood up and started walking out of the room. “You’re not going to kill me, then?”

“Not yet.” The response gave him hope and crushed him at the same time.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” She put one foot up on the stairs, but then turned back around. “What’s your name?”

“Josh.”

“Josh. Short for Joshua?” He nodded. “Biblical. _Savior_. Or _salvation._ Your parents thought very highly of you.” He stared at her. She sighed. “The rope isn’t hard to untie. Just reach around under the bed and get it from there. Don’t try anything stupid.” She walked up the stairs, but Josh called after her. This was his last chance.

“I want to see Tyler!” He yelled.

“I know,” she said, and left. Josh cursed into the empty room. He felt angry and anxious and afraid all at the same time. He wanted Tyler. He wanted to know that Tyler was okay. None of this was worth anything if Tyler wasn’t okay. He breathed, deep, and untied the rope around his wrist.

 

***

 

Tyler had long since pulled himself free of the rope around his right ankle, and despite the pain that shot through his left leg, he had been pacing ever since, walking the length of the room, turning, and walking back. Every time he neared the stairs, his chest tightened, and he wondered if the woman was going to come back down the stairs. His fingers were shaking.

He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that it was important, that he _needed to remember_ , nothing was coming back to him. Details. Tiny, unimportant words, voices, moments that built into nothing. He’d been pacing for what felt like hours, though he couldn’t tell. There were no windows. He didn’t even know what time it was, what day it was, _where_ he was. There was something he was missing, something important, and finally, he snapped.

He slammed his fist against the wall in front of him, the one opposite from the stairs, and then a moment later, he doubled over in pain. It made his stomach churn. _Stupid, stupid, idiot._ What if he’d broken his knuckles? He slowly brought his hand into sight and stared at the broken skin. Blood flowed over his fingers, down his wrist. _Red_.

And everything came back.

The force of his memories coming back made his knees buckle. He dropped to the ground, holding his head. The onslaught only lasted a moment, but it felt like he was living through his whole life in that one second.

Red was Josh.

Red was Tyler, _with_ Josh.

Red was the raiders that tried to kill Tyler in his own home, red was the river, red was killing the Shadow in the department store with a knife thrown from his own fingers. It was a crooked house, a nightmare about the ocean, a knife in his back. It was eating pasta with green and blue eyes, it was walking past farms in Ohio, it was a migraine that went on for too long. It was Josh, it was Josh, it was Josh, it was _Josh,_ but Josh was blue, wasn’t he?

Wasn’t he?

Blue?

Tyler sat on the ground, his knuckles aching, his leg aching, his head aching. _Josh._ He remembered. How had he forgotten? What was he still forgetting? No matter how hard he tried, there was still nothing in his memories about where he was, or how he’d gotten there.

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and he launched himself to his feet. There was a trickle of blood going down his ankle, he could feel it. The woman was back. She got halfway down the stairs before stopping and staring at him. Blood dripped from his knuckles and onto the floor. After a moment, she rolled her eyes.

“What the hell did you do?” She was holding a container of what looked to Tyler complete mush, but he assumed it was food. There was a water bottle balanced on top, alongside a spoon. “Tyler, what the _hell_?”

“I punched the wall.”

“I got _that._ Why?”

“To remember.” He knew who he was now. He knew himself. At least, he knew himself well enough to function, now. Not like before. He panicked before. Now, the dream was a distant feeling, still unsettling, but not overwhelming. Now, he was awake. He knew he was awake. The girl’s voice didn’t haunt him.

“And do you remember?”

“Where’s Josh?”

“That’s a yes, then. I brought you food, if you want it. Chili.” He didn’t know what chili was. He didn’t care.

“I asked you a question.”

“And I neglected to answer.” She was walking towards him. He pressed his back up against the wall, wishing that she would just let him go, let him see Josh, let them leave wherever it was they were. “Now do you want your chili or not?”

“I… what’s chili?”

“Beans. Meat. Spices. Yay or nay?”

“Uh… yay?” She shoved it forward, and after staring at her for a moment, Tyler put his hands out to take the container. She pulled it back and grabbed onto his injured arm with her free hand. He pulled back, hard, but she was stronger than she looked. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, Tyler glaring, the woman glaring back. Then she looked down at his knuckles.

“I hope this isn’t your shooting hand,” she said.

“I don’t remember,” he answered honestly.

“No. No, of course you don’t.” She ran her thumb harshly over the bloody bones and he tried to yank his hand away, but she held onto it tightly, her fingers digging into his skin.

“Stop.” She was close to him. Too close. His back was still against the wall. He had nowhere to go. She looked at him, and then down at his hand. Another drop of blood fell onto the floor. She let go, stepped back, and shoved the chili into his free hands. “And _I’m_ the weird one,” he muttered, determined not to let his voice shake.

“You’re the one that punched the wall.” She glanced over at the bed where the rope was laying, and then down at Tyler’s ankle, and then at his other ankle. Blood was spotted on the ground. He hadn’t noticed until then. He still didn’t care. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She asked, but it sounded as though she didn’t want an answer. “You and your friend, _Joshua._ What is he to you, huh? Friend? Lover? More? Couldn’t mean _that_ much if you forgot him before.”

“It wasn’t my fault.” The other’s words felt like dust in his mouth. _It wasn’t your fault._ They felt wrong.

“Right, right. The memory thing. Joshua explained.” _Josh._ Not Joshua. Joshua felt wrong. Unfamiliar. But he didn’t correct her. “That must be a hell of a life, huh?”

“Sure.”

“Or maybe it’s better. Maybe you get to forget the bad parts.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh.” She sighed. Tyler limped over to the bed and sat down, opening the chili. It smelled amazing, better than anything he could remember smelling in his entire life. But then again, that wasn’t saying much. His hand stung. The woman stayed standing.

“You haven’t killed me yet,” Tyler said, examining the chili.

“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I wasn’t…” He looked down. He hadn’t considered it. He put his spoon into it, but he didn’t put it to his mouth.

“Josh asked to see you,” the woman said after a while. Tyler looked up. “He was so sure that you’d remember him.”

“I do.”

“You didn’t before.”

“I do _now._ ”

“Isn’t that fun? Maybe now you can give me an answer.”

“An… answer–?”

“Why don’t you want to die?” Tyler closed his mouth. “Josh gave me one. A rather nice one, actually. Gave me a good picture of who he is as a person. Very lonely. Very much in need of a friend.” She faked sympathy, a comical pout on her face. “Now it’s your turn.”

“I don’t…” He’d forgotten about the question. He’d forgotten to think of an answer. He still didn’t have one.

“Tick tock, Tyler.” The words haunted him. The sound of her tapping her gun against her leg was the only noise in the room. “Why don’t you want to die?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why do you _want_ to die?” _You want to die._

“I don’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then you want to die.” She pulled the safety off of the gun. Tyler’s heart stuttered.

“ _No._ ”

“Why?” She raised it to aim at his head.

“ _Please.”_

“ _Why_ , Tyler?” Why? Why? _Why_? He didn’t want to die. He felt it in his bones. He _knew_ that he didn’t but there was no reason, nothing that would come to his mind, and his thoughts were chanting, _you want to die, you want to die, I want to die._ But he _didn’t_. Did he? “Three.” _Three_? “Two.” _No._

“I want to remember.” The woman didn’t keep counting. Tyler’s heart was pounding hard. “I want to live. I want to see Josh again. I want– I want to know why my brain’s all messed up, I want to know why I keep dreaming about the ocean, I want to make music, I want to know who I am–“

“Tyler.”

“And who the _hell_ do you think you are?” The woman opened her mouth and then closed it. “Passing judgment? Determining whether I live or die, whether or not Josh lives or dies? I don’t need to prove to you that I want to live. I can’t even prove it to myself! I want to see Josh, and I want to leave, and I want to go to the sea and move on with my life and _you won’t let me._ Why do _you_ want to live, huh? So you can grab more innocent people off of the street and force them to question their lives? I want to go _home._ ” He didn’t know what he was doing. The woman had a gun. He didn’t. He didn’t even know what he was saying by the end of his rant. _Home?_ What was home? The word had no memory associated with it, and yet he wanted it more than anything else in the world.

The woman pursed her lips. Tyler held her gaze, unyielding. The gun was still pointed at his head, safety off. She could kill him. She could really kill him, and he still had no idea what he was doing there. She slowly lowered the gun.

“Do you feel better, now?” She asked.

“What? _No._ Why the hell would I feel better?” He lurched to his feet, the anger in his bones forcing him to move. She raised her gun again, aiming it at his chest this time.

“Sit. Down.” Tyler stared down the barrel of her gun and lowered himself back onto the bed. “Good.” He felt like the walls were closing in, like the room was too small for his mind to be contained. He wanted to scream. The gun was still pointed at him. “I might not be a real god, Tyler, but right now your life is in my hands, so I’d watch what you say to me.” His blood ran cold at the tone of her voice. The sarcasm was gone. She sounded like she meant it.

“What do you _want_ from me? I gave you an answer.”

“That, you did.” He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. She didn’t lower the gun, either.

“I want to leave,” Tyler said. “I want to see Josh.”

“Sure,” she said, standing up. “One sec.” The butt of her gun connected with Tyler’s skull. He was getting tired of being unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, sorry... another kind-of-cliffhanger. I'll post soon again! I promise! Definitely before next Friday, but probably by the end of this weekend honestly. I'm really enjoying writing this story. I hope you enjoyed! Once again, leave any comments, concerns, or requests :) I love feedback


	20. Alive

Josh had his fingers curled around Tyler’s, their backs pressed together in the dark. He knew it was Tyler from the rasp in his breathing, always there. A constant. There was something flaking off of Tyler’s hand; dried blood, it seemed. Josh didn’t let go. There was blood all over the world these days. It didn’t matter. He’d been in that position for what felt like hours, waiting for something to happen, waiting for Tyler to wake up, to say something. There was something tied over his eyes, around his wrists, around his ankles. He could only assume that it was the same for Tyler. He couldn’t see him. He couldn’t even turn to face him.

They were in a car; he knew that much. Maybe one of the big vans that Josh used to see at schools or in alleys. The engine thrummed beneath his body, making his head tap against the floor of the vehicle. Sometimes, they would hit a bump. Josh’s body would float in the air for a moment and then come crashing back down to the ground, bones rattled. Josh moved his fingers, flaking off more of the blood from Tyler’s knuckles.

They were alive. They were alive, for now. He didn’t know what to make of the situation. The woman hadn’t come back down after the first time, after Josh had given her the answers she wanted. He’d untied his wrist from the bed and started pacing, trying to find a way out of the situation, but he couldn’t come up with anything. He would need to find Tyler, no matter what. But before he could even figure out where he was, the smell of the air changed, and the next thing he knew he was there, riding in the back of a van with no information whatsoever. They were alive, for the time being.

Maybe they were being freed. Maybe their lives weren’t about to end, like that woman in the basement had so implied. But then again, maybe that wasn’t the case. Josh imagined being thrown into a river, unable to swim or move or breathe. He imagined being bludgeoned to death, still blindfolded. He imagined being smothered. The van hit another bump. Tyler woke up.

Josh could tell the second he came back into his own mind. His fingers tensed, breathing picking up drastically. Josh squeezed his skin lightly, but Tyler tried to pull away.

“Ty,” he said softly, not knowing who would hear them. He didn’t even know if they were alone in the van. “Tyler, it’s me. It’s Josh.” His breathing didn’t calm down, but he stopped trying to get away. “It’s okay.” The conversation sounded too familiar. Tyler woke up in a panic too often for his own good.

“Josh.”

“Yeah.” They didn’t keep talking. The engine kept running, and Josh could almost _hear_ the gears turning in Tyler’s mind, trying to put things together without asking, without saying anything aloud. Josh attempted to avoid thinking of ways the two of them could be murdered. Every time the car hit a bump, Tyler would squeeze Josh’s hand a little harder; maybe he was afraid that they would be separated again. Josh couldn’t say that the fear wasn’t in his own mind.

When the car finally shuddered to a stop, they both froze. The engine cut out, and they were left with the sounds of their own breathing. Josh jumped when someone next to him moved, someone who wasn’t Tyler. He felt his chest tighten, knowing that they hadn’t been alone that whole time. He didn’t have time to think about it though. There were hands around his arms, pulling him out, away from Tyler. He felt the sun on his cheeks, a light breeze. It smelled like water and trees and rain; a calming smell for a near death experience. He was forced to kneel on the ground, his feet roughly cut apart from each other. He heard Tyler grunt, and then heard it when he was forced down next to Josh.

Someone was in front of him. If he looked down hard enough, past the bottom of the blindfold, he could see shoes. The blindfold was taken off, yanked hard, and the person yanking it pulled at his hair.

It took a moment to adjust to the sun, but it wasn’t hard to see that there were guns pointed lazily at them, half at their heads and half at the ground. The woman standing in front of him was the same woman who’s interrogated him earlier. She winked at him and then stepped over to Tyler, taking off his blindfold as well. The two of them shared a quick glance before facing forward again, both taking in their surroundings.

Josh recognized the woman who interrogated him. He also recognized the woman who Tyler had stabbed; the woman who’d forced the bear trap down on his ankle. He felt hatred boiling in his chest. By the looks of it, Tyler was feeling the same way towards her. Then there was the big man with the beard, Dee, and one more person who Josh didn’t recognize. Maybe the person who’d stayed behind him when they were attacked. He didn’t know. His gaze settled on the woman who was in the basement with him, the woman who’d asked him why he didn’t want to die. The woman who now knew more about his reasons for staying alive than Tyler did. She stared back at him, and then looked at Tyler, and then back to him.

“Well. Here we are,” she said, a slight smile on her face.

“Not dead,” Josh agreed.

“Yet,” the woman said. His stomach tightened, but he didn’t let his expression change. She watched him carefully. “You have a good poker-face, I’ll give you that.” He stayed silent. Tyler did too. Together, they were a force to be ignored. Reckoned with, but ignored. She raised her eyebrows. “Jeez, guys. I was kidding. We’re not killing you.” She rolled her eyes and took a knife out of the leather holder on her belt. Josh saw Tyler tense out of the corner of his eye. “Now don’t try anything stupid,” she said. Moments later, their wrists were free. Their bags were thrown down in front of them. Guns were still vaguely pointing at their heads, but Josh was slowly realizing that they might get out of this one okay. In the wasteland, it was practically a miracle.

“We took the pain meds,” the bear trap woman said when she dropped Tyler’s bag to the ground. “Hope you don’t mind.” Josh gave her the most hateful glare he could muster, but she didn’t react to it.

“Great. So. Here’s how this is going to work,” the interrogator asked. “You two are going to stand up, put your bags on, and walk… what was it? East? And we’re going to drive… that-a-way.” She pointed behind her, giving Josh an idea of what direction they were facing. “And then we’re never going to see each other again.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tyler muttered. She nodded her head towards their bags.

“Go on.” The guns were raised with them as they stood, still aimed at their heads. Josh grabbed his bag, which felt significantly heavier than before, surprisingly, and Tyler grabbed the other one. He was limping. There were splits on the back of his hand, at his knuckles, and blood ran down his wrist. Josh wanted to punch the bear trap woman.

Tyler beat him to it. His fist connected with her jaw, and they both dropped to the ground, Tyler clutching his already injured hand, the woman clutching her face. Neither Dee nor the other man fired their guns, but they certainly aimed with a little more intention this time.

“Oh, you mother fucker–“ The woman looked like she was ready to rip Tyler’s head off, but there was another voice.

“ _Margret.”_ The interrogator’s voice was louder and more forceful than Josh had expected. The woman, Margret, stopped mid-lunge toward Tyler, the rage still showing in her face. The sudden outburst of energy was gone. There was silence again. “You deserved that. He’s got stitches because of you.” Tyler and Margret stared at each other, pure hatred on each of their faces. “Margret.”

“I fuckin’ heard you,” she said, getting up without taking her eyes off of Tyler. Tyler got up as well, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. She rubbed her jaw again. Josh didn’t _disagree_ with the interrogator. Margret deserved it.

“Wonderful. Now that we’ve got out all that _pent up rage,_ let’s move on with the deal. You walk that way, we’ll drive this way. Sound good?” Josh and Tyler both turned to stare at her, a dead look on both of their faces. She smiled. “Oh! And here,” she said, walking over to the van and pulling a small black package out of the driver’s seat. She threw it to Josh, who caught it. He opened the Velcro on the side to reveal a small med kit, complete with tiny scissors, ointment, and a needle and thread. “Take the stitches out after a week or so. Keep the antibacterial stuff on it, but make sure you clean it every day. No point in dying once you’ve made it this far, right?” Josh closed the kit.

“Thanks,” he said. She winked at him again. He blinked back at her.

“Well. Get going.” Josh looked at Tyler, and Tyler looked back at him. “Go on,” she said, gesturing towards the east. For a moment, Josh wondered if it was a trick– if when they turned their backs, the two men with the guns were going to shoot them dead or trap them again and drag them back to where they were before. But the men with guns were already lowering their weapons, already trudging back to the van. Margret gave one last sour look at Tyler before she turned as well. The interrogator was the only one left still standing where she was, spinning the car keys around one finger. Josh looked at Tyler again. Tyler shrugged.

They turned and started walking east. Tyler glanced over his shoulder, and Josh did too. The woman smiled at them and waved. After a few more steps, when they turned around again, she was getting back into the van. When they turned around again, the van was driving away.

Once the van was out of sight, Tyler grabbed onto Josh’s arm and sunk to the ground. Josh sunk with him. The world was ringing, spinning, and _they were alive._ Josh couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t. It felt like a trick, like something was _supposed_ to go wrong, but there was nothing. They were alive. _They were alive._

“Wow,” Tyler sighed. Josh nodded.

They sat like that for a while, Tyler with his fingers holding tight to Josh’s arm, kneeling on the ground, until finally, Tyler made a noise in the back of his throat and shifted his leg to situate it in front of him. He lifted up the leg of his pant to reveal a dashed line of stitches going all the way around his calf.

“I didn’t even know I had stitches,” he admitted, poking at the bruised flesh and then wincing like he didn’t know that it would hurt to touch the cuts. There was dried blood all around his sock and on his shoe. Josh remembered the blood that had flaked off into his fingers when he was holding onto Tyler in the van.

“What happened to your hand?” Josh asked, looking down at Tyler’s bloody knuckles. Tyler looked confused for a moment, but then he looked down as well and saw what Josh was talking about.

“Oh,” he muttered, stretching his fingers out and wincing at that as well. “I, uh. I punched a wall.”

“What? Why?” Tyler shook his head, rubbing his eyes with the back of his good hand.

“I couldn’t remember. I got frustrated.”

“You punched the wall… to remember?”

“I guess.” Josh knew what he was supposed to say. He was supposed to tell Tyler not to hurt himself, not to punch walls, and so on. But he didn’t say that.

“Did it work?” He asked, guiltily. Tyler blinked down at the ground.

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“I saw the blood and the color just… it was like your hair. Before. And then I remembered the blue… I don’t know. It worked.” Josh nodded slowly.

“Maybe we should find a better way to remember that doesn’t involve hurting yourself, though,” Josh said, and Tyler smiled.

“Yeah, probably,” he said. Josh sighed and opened up his backpack. At the top were all of the water bottles that had once been filled with mucky river water. Now, they were clean, filled with water that almost sparkled in the sun. Josh looked at them in disbelief. Tyler leaned over and peered at the water. “Did they just… _give_ us clean water?”

“Maybe one of them felt bad for us,” Josh said. “Or that woman was doing it because of all the shit she put us through.” Josh remembered the basement in vivid detail. He wondered what the woman had asked Tyler. He wondered if Tyler had ever answered her question. He wanted to ask, but then again, he didn’t want to tell Tyler his own answer. Tyler opened his backpack and found more bottles of water. He opened one of them and started dripping it over his knuckles, revealing the true splits in his skin. Josh wondered if the white parts were bone, or if the sun was just reflecting the water. He didn’t really _want_ to know. After a moment, he moved the stream to his ankle, and then he took his shoe off and tugged off his sock, pulling a new one out of his bag.

“Where are we?” Tyler asked. Josh looked around. The area around them wasn’t like it was before. There were no farms, no broken down houses or silos. There were trees. Lots of trees, and in between the trees, there were patches of long, green grass. They were on a road, seemingly still a highway, just as before, but the only indication was a mile marker that was a few feet away from them. Josh squinted.

“There’s a sign that way,” he said, looking east. “I can’t see it yet.” Tyler nodded, taking the hint that they needed to start walking again, and started putting his shoe back on. He stopped, wincing when he moved his knuckles, and then stared at his shoe, silent. For a moment, Josh wondered if he was blanking again, zoning out like he’d done before. Before he could ask if he was okay or not, Tyler spoke.

“We’re alive, Josh.” Josh blinked.

“Yeah,” he said, unsure of what Tyler wanted him to say.

“Josh, what if we die before we get to the shore?” Josh opened his mouth, but then closed it again. “What if we don’t make it? What if… what if we just _die?_ ”

“We’re not gonna die,” Josh said. His voice sounded significantly more confident than he felt.

“How do you know? How many times have we almost died already? I probably don’t even remember all of them. Shadows and raiders and _this._ What the hell was _this?_ ”

“We’re not gonna die, Tyler. We just won’t. We’re careful.”

“Are we?” Tyler ran his fingers over his stitches. “I stepped into a bear trap.”

“We’ll be _more_ careful, then.”

“I don’t want to die, Josh.”

“Me neither. We’re not going to.” Tyler was silent, but then he sighed and started tying his shoe again.

“Okay.” There was no more argument. Josh didn’t know what he expected. More negativity, less trust. Tyler put his hand up for Josh to help him stand, and Josh obliged. They started walking.

The sign in front of them said _Hublersburg_ , _13 miles,_ followed by a few other town names and exit numbers. Josh found it on the map. The woman had driven them almost ninety miles east. It seemed that they didn’t even need to find a car; maybe they just needed to get kidnapped again, and they’d be at the shore. When Josh found it on the map, when he figured out how close they were getting to their destination, Tyler laughed. It was a sound Josh hadn’t heard in a while.

“Why are you laughing?” Josh asked, confused.

“ _Hublersburg_ ,” he said, still giggling. Josh looked down at the map, then up at the sign, then back at Tyler. “It’s such a funny name, Josh,” he breathed, and Josh busted out laughing.

“Really? That’s what you’re laughing about?”

“It’s _funny!_ It sounds like someone just _sneezed_ and wrote the sound down on a sign.” Josh shook his head, still smiling.

“We just almost _died_ and you’re laughing about a _sign,_ ” he muttered. Tyler kept laughing. He laughed, and then he wasn’t laughing anymore. It took Josh a moment to realize that he was crying. Tears streamed down his face, and his breaths came short and quick. Josh didn’t know what to do. He stared at Tyler as he put his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking. “Ty…”

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said through his fingers. His voice cracked. Josh didn’t know what to do, so he did the only thing he _could_ do. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Tyler’s small body. Tyler leaned into him, his breathing slowing slightly. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“It’s okay.” They stood, Tyler crying, Josh rubbing circles into his back. The sun moved slowly in the sky. Finally, when Tyler’s breathing had returned to normal and he wasn’t shaking anymore, Josh chuckled. “Hey Tyler.”

“Hm.”

“ _Hublersburg.”_ Tyler’s shoulders started shaking again, but this time it was laughter that was causing the movement. Josh smiled, still holding Tyler close and rubbing his back, and Josh wondered where the interrogator was at that moment, what they were doing. Maybe they were scooping up another couple of kids off of the street, forcing them to question their own existence. Maybe they were the ones being scooped up. The wasteland remained the way it always had been; unexpectedly harsh, but exactly as deadly as one might imagine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wee bit shorter, but the next chapter is gonna be a happier one! (before everything goes to hell >:D ) so get hyped. I hope you enjoyed! Please leave any feedback you want, I love hearing from you guys! Thanks for reading :)


	21. Setting Fires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so– this is kind of a filler chapter? I'm sorry I haven't posted in a good few days. This week was tech week for the play at my school and so that was fun, and to be completely honest, I just started a new medication so I've been super tired and its kind of hard to work up the motivation to write. That aside, I hope you like this chapter!

As it turned out, Tyler’s ankle was proving to be much more of a problem than he expected. It ached with every step, pulsing, and occasionally his stitched ripped and dripped blood into his sock. He didn’t have to ask for help, though; every time his face would contort or he would shudder out a sigh, Josh would silently wrap his arm around Tyler’s torso and help him along until they reached somewhere safer to rest.

It had been five days since Tyler had stepped in the bear trap, and four since they’d been released from their captivity. Two minor dust storms and seven miles later, they were running out of conversation topics. Every so often, Tyler would ask the same questions over and over, remembering that he’d asked them only _after_ the words left his lips. It was an improvement from before– Josh told him about when he’d forgotten nearly everything after his migraine. The memory of this was fuzzy, but it was there at least. Josh’s hair was slowly fading in the sun where it loomed overhead, baking them into the ground.

Hublersburg wasn’t as funny in person as it was when Tyler had read the sign. In fact, the whole thing was completely empty of people, shadows, and, more importantly, supplies. Tyler had found himself a piece of metal from a construction site and had been using it as a crutch up until the point that it started giving him blisters on his hand.

On the fourth day of walking while the sun was still high in the sky and spring was very clearly beginning to set in, while there was a city growing ever closer on the skyline and the two of them had long since run out of things to say to each other, Josh let out a massive groan and ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

“What?” Tyler asked, fanning himself with one hand.

“I’m _bored_ ,” Josh said. “We’re just _walking._ _Endlessly._ Why does the sea have to be so far away?”

“Maybe we can get kidnapped again, hitch a ride on the crazy bus all the way to the water.” Josh huffed out a laugh. “At least we’re closer than we were before?” Josh’s mood was refusing to get better. He groaned again.

“What if we’re walking to the wrong ocean?” Tyler burst out laughing.

“ _What?_ ”

“I’m just saying. What if we walked all the way here and then we have to go _back_ across the whole country? I’ve already don’t that once– I almost died a few times.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re walking to the right ocean, Josh.” He nodded and looked down at the road again. After a few minutes, Tyler heard another groan, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Then, Josh stopped dead in his tracks, eyes focused. “What?” He let his backpack fall to the ground and started rummaging around in it before he pulled out two plastic water bottles, one that looked like water and one that looked like mud.

“I completely forgot we had these.”

“What are they?” Josh paused for a second.

“How much do you remember Katie and Maya?” Tyler searched his memory. He remembered their eyes. He remembered feeling comfortable. He remembered red, red before blue.

“Not much.”

“Okay, well, we stayed at their safe house for a while, _but_ before we left, they gave us _these._ ” He shook the bottles a little.

“What… are they?” Tyler repeated his previous question.

“Vodka and whiskey.” Tyler blinked at him. The words were familiar, but he didn’t know what they meant. “Alcohol, Tyler. You get drunk with them.”

“Oh.” Josh smiled and shook his head.

“We should get to somewhere safe, though. Don’t want to get caught off guard.” Josh put the drinks back into his bag, but Tyler could tell that he was excited now. When he smiled, he smiled wide, and he squinted his eyes until they almost disappeared. Tyler was beginning to notice how the sun brought out his freckles. He wondered what his own face looked like now.

They started walking towards the city that lay in front of them, the tops of buildings peaking over trees. Tyler didn’t remember much about the last few days. They all blurred together, a monotonous drag of walking, walking, walking. There was no end to it. Tyler could understand why Josh was bored, theoretically, though he was the tiniest bit grateful that time seemed to pass faster for him. If anything, at least he had that one benefit.

The city was like most cities were; seemingly abandoned, destroyed, and half buried. After wandering for a while, trying to find the best place to camp out and get drunk, the two of them settled on a one-story clothing store whose sign was broken in half on the ground outside. Josh was adamant that they checked the entire store, which included behind all the clothing racks and in the storage room in the back. Tyler remembered the Shadow in the department store, back when Josh’s hair was red. He assumed that this was why he was being so careful, especially after everything that had happened since they’d started their journey. All they found in the store were dust bunnies in the corners and dead bugs on the ground. Finally, Josh dropped his backpack to the floor and pulled the two bottles back out. Tyler felt nervous, but he didn’t know why.

“Have you ever been drunk?” Josh asked. Tyler opened his mouth, but he didn’t get the chance to give his usual sarcastic answer. “Right, sorry. Never mind.”

“Have you?” Josh smiled.

“My sisters and I used to sneak drinks from the cellars under the kitchen.” Josh’s face looked happy and sad at the same time, but Tyler didn’t know why. He felt like he should know why. He had forgotten that Josh had sisters. Or maybe, that he used to have sisters. Tyler wondered if _he_ had sisters. “We got in trouble for it, all the time.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be a trouble-maker,” Tyler said, smiling. Josh opened one of the bottles, the brown one, and held it under his nose.

“That’s because I’m nice to you,” he said, smiling. “Here. Smell.” Tyler took the bottle and held it to his nose, hesitantly. It made his lungs burn a little, and it smelled like something people weren’t meant to drink.

“Gross.”

“Yeah, it is. The taste isn’t why you drink it, though.” He took the bottle back, raised it to Tyler as a kind of toast, and took a swig. His face scrunched up, an he coughed after swallowing. “That’s definitely been waiting a long time to be tasted,” he said, laughing. He passed the bottle back to Tyler. He examined it. In some part of his mind, he didn’t want to try it, didn’t want to get drunk, to lose control that he didn’t have in the first place. Then again, maybe it was okay to forget about things once in a while. Left to himself, there weren’t many places his thoughts could go. For most of the time that he and Josh were walking, they were silent, thinking about whatever they wanted to think about. Tyler wanted to stop remembering his nightmares, remembering his life. He took a drink.

He decided that whiskey tasted like fire and dirt. It burned when it went down his throat, when it hit his stomach. It made his chest warm. He felt like he needed to breathe out smoke. He coughed, the same cough that Josh had just let out, but now he understood why. Josh laughed.

“You look like you hate it,” Josh said.

“How long does it take to get drunk?” Tyler asked, eying the bottle.

“More than one sip,” Josh responded. He opened the vodka. “This one is worse. You’ll probably want to stick to the whiskey.” Tyler reached his hand out to take the vodka from Josh, and Josh raised his eyebrows and handed it over. Josh was right. Tyler preferred the whiskey. He preferred water more than anything, but he preferred the whiskey. Josh shrugged and took a massive drink from the vodka, shaking his head afterwards. Tyler sipped at his own bottle.

It wasn’t long before they were drunk. Tyler didn’t know what he was expecting to feel like– everything felt slow, warm, like he was floating and sinking at the same time. He kept smiling, smiling at everything; he smiled at Josh and giggled and randomly started crying with laughter. At first, he thought that it was a bad idea. His stomach churned, working against him, but after a while, the warmth overtook everything, and he felt like he could take over the world, like he could shoot a raider or punch a Shadow in the teeth.

“Am I drunk?” He kept asking, forgetting that he’d said it a hundred times already. Every time, Josh would start laughing and would let his head fall back, grinning.

“Yes, Tyler,” Josh would answer, “You’re drunk.” The day was passing too quickly– memories escaped Tyler faster than ever, but it didn’t matter. He felt happy. He felt like there wasn’t anything he had to worry about, not a thing in the world. He and Josh ran around the store, trying on clothes, throwing things around, breaking things and tearing things and making them new. They watched as the sun fell slowly in the sky, as it cast new shadows on the ground. Josh tried to layer as many shirts as he could onto Tyler’s body, laughing at how thin Tyler was, at how big he looked covered in fabric. Tyler nearly got stuck.

After a while, he found himself lying in the middle of the street, his head on Josh’s stomach, looking up at the sky. It was cloudy, dark, but it was the sky, and he loved it. He loved it. It was night time. He didn’t remember when the sun had set.

“I want to light something on fire,” he said. He didn’t know where the thought came from, but he was more certain in saying it than anything else in the world.

“What?” Josh said, laughing. Tyler could feel the sound vibrating in his stomach.

“I want to light something on _fire,”_ Tyler said, sitting up. “Woah,” he muttered, his head spinning as he moved. Josh giggled, biting his tongue between his teeth.

“Do… do we even have matches still?”

“How am I supposed to remember?” Tyler asked. Josh looked at him for a second, but then they both burst out laughing. It was hard to take anything seriously now, even something as messed up as Tyler’s memory. Josh groaned and sat up, rubbing his head.

“Alright, just… hold on.” He stood up slowly, swaying like the ocean in Tyler’s dreams. Tyler looked up at the sky, and seemingly a moment later, Josh was back with a flare and a box of matches in his hand. Tyler grinned.

They didn’t usually light fires. Fires were obvious. They were dangerous. They drew attention. But he didn’t care. He wanted to watch something burn, watch it be destroyed, but at the same time, remain beautiful. He wanted to see something that he would remember.

“What do you want to light on fire?” Josh asked. The question itself made Tyler giggle, but he covered his mouth and attempted to calm himself enough to make a decision. He looked around. The clothing store was too big, too much work to burn. His eyes settled on an old dust covered car parked on the other side of the street. Josh followed his gaze, and when he saw it, he smiled. “Sick.”

“We need… gas… or something.”

“Why?”

“To light it.”

“Oh,” Josh said, and then laughed. “Right.” He looked down at the bottle in his hand, still with a little alcohol left in it. “This would work, right?” Tyler shrugged. Josh helped him stand up and they walked over to the car. Josh opened the passenger side door and poured a trickle of vodka across the seat, onto the ground, across the back of the car, everywhere. “Would you like to do the honors?” Josh asked, offering Tyler the flare, but Tyler shook his head. He wanted Josh to do it. He wanted to watch Josh light a car on fire. He didn’t know why, but he wanted it to happen. Josh grinned, shrugged, and struck the flare against the cap, lighting it up in red sparks and smoke. It illuminated Josh’s blue hair into a strange, almost purple glow. Then he threw it into the car.

It didn’t burn as fast as Tyler had hoped. It took a while. The vodka lit first, making tiny trails of flames across the seats. He and Josh stepped back, watching as the spots grew, as the seats were engulfed after a while, and then the back of the car, and then the whole thing was crackling and sending off sparks into the air. Tyler watched it. He could feel the heat of it, feel the sparks reflecting in his eyes. Josh was mesmerized as well. The both watched as the car burned.

A while later, the gas tank caught fire, and the whole car burst open, exploding pieces of metal into the air and rocking the ground. Josh and Tyler let out a simultaneous _oooh_ , and then they both started laughing hysterically at the ridiculousness of the situation, at how strange they were being, how reckless. Tyler didn’t care. He laughed and watched the car burn and put his head on Josh’s shoulder.

Though his mind was muddy, he felt like it was the clearest his head had been in a while. There were no fears, no anxieties, no nightmares to make him panic and scream and cry. The world was simple. The world was Josh, blue hair, vodka, whiskey, and a burning car. That was it. There was nothing else to worry about, not the raiders, not the Shadows, not the stitches that were holding the skin together at Tyler’s ankle. He breathed, and Josh breathed, and they were drunk and lighting things on fire. He wondered if the entire ocean could really be better than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it? I'll have a TON of free time next week now that the play is over, so if I can get some motivation, the next part will be out soon (if you remember from last note, the part where things go to hell). Leave a comment if you want! I really appreciate them! Thanks for reading >:o


	22. Smoke and Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the hell begins...

Josh woke up with a hangover, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in months– years, maybe. He felt gross and sweaty, and his limbs ached almost as badly as his head. Light filtered in through the store windows, and it was obvious that it wasn’t morning anymore. He wondered how long he’d been asleep as he stretched his arms up and sat upright, immediately regretting the movement.

Tyler was still out like a light, his arm draped over his eyes and his other limbs splayed out at strange angles. They hadn’t even made it into their sleeping bags the night before. Josh sighed and dug a water bottle out of his backpack, sniffing it to make sure that it wasn’t _more_ vodka. He didn’t think he wanted to drink again for at least another year. Not with this pounding in his head. It wasn’t worth it.

He stood up, unscrewing the cap, and looked around. The store was trashed, though he didn’t remember if it had been that way when they got there. He had a vague memory of him and Tyler traipsing around the shelves in colorful clothes. Right next to the main entrance, there was a puddle of what looked like vomit. It was rancid, but Josh didn’t remember who’s it was. He wondered if this was what Tyler felt like all the time, vaguely confused, only having half of the facts, half of the memories that were needed to put together a full story. He rolled his shoulders and stepped outside, grateful for the fact that the air wasn’t as hot as it had been in the last few days. A breeze whistled through the city buildings.

In front of him, there was a charred frame of what used to be a car. The memory came back to him immediately, of him and Tyler watching the flames grow, watching the metal be consumed. He smiled and took a huge gulp of water, leaning up against the front wall of the store and willing his headache to go away. It had been a while since he’d been hung-over. He didn’t quite know how to cure it, considering it was such a rare occurrence. Maybe it would be best if he and Tyler took a day to recover rather than setting out right away.

He was reminded of the mundane nature of their march. After this, they had to go right back to walking, right back to waiting for something interesting to happen. He sighed and took another sip. The ocean seemed so close, and still so far away. He wished that they had a car– they could be there in hours if they did. Instead, they were left with days ahead of them and minimal supplies. Though, they were in a city. It was entirely possible that they could find some more food and water here. Josh looked over at the torched car and found himself wondering if maybe they should have tried the engine before lighting it on fire. He doubted that it would start now. He just hoped that it was shot to begin with.

It was a while before Tyler woke up. Josh had finished his water and was sitting with his back to the building, watching the sun cross the sky. It looked like it was already past midday. When Tyler walked through the double doors, Josh almost laughed. His hair was sticking up in every direction, and he looked like he was sleepwalking. When he looked down at Josh, he looked pitiful and hopeful at the same time. Josh smiled at him.

“Good morning,” Josh said, his voice creaky. Tyler rubbed his eyes and groaned.

“I think I’m sick,” he said.

“That’s a hangover.”

“A what?”

“It’s what happens the morning after you drink.”

“Oh.” Tyler eased himself down the wall and sat down next to Josh. “It sucks.” Josh laughed.

“Yeah,” he said. “But sometimes it’s worth it.” Tyler nodded slightly, and then looked over at the car across the street.

“We burned that, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.”

“Sick.” Josh laughed again. “I feel like I remember… less and more than usual.”

“I get that,” Josh said.

“Which one of us threw up?”

“I don’t remember,” Josh said.

“I think it was me. My mouth tastes… _bad._ ” Tyler rubbed his eyes again and looked up at the sky. Josh sighed.

“Do you want breakfast?” Tyler answered without looking down again.

“I think it’s more like lunch, now,” he said.

“Do you want _lunch_?” Tyler laughed lightly and nodded. Josh smiled and stood up, patting Tyler on the shoulder and walking back into the store. After a moment, he grabbed a water bottle and poked his head back out the door, handing it to Tyler, who took it with a smile. After a while, Josh brought out two bowls of cold soup after trying and failing to start a fire. The rest of the matches were either broken or simply wouldn’t light. They really needed to find more supplies. Tyler slurped his soup silently, and he had his thinking face on again, his eyes half closed, shoulders hunched over. Josh couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts were going through his head.

Tyler didn’t often let Josh know what he was thinking. Josh usually just assumed that he was trying to remember something, trying to figure out what was going on, where they were, what was happening. Or maybe he wasn’t thinking about anything. Josh ate a spoonful of soup. Tyler blinked a few times and then looked over at Josh.

“Where are we?” The question startled him for a moment, but then he realized that Tyler was just asking about their literal location, and hadn’t forgotten everything again. The fear of that memory loss was always in the back of his head.

“I think we’re in Madisonburg, Pennsylvania,” Josh said. “The last time I looked at the map, I think that’s around where we were. But we didn’t really check before we got into the city.” Tyler blinked at him. “What?” He shook his head.

“I don’t know. Nothing. The name sounds familiar.”

“Madisonburg? Do you think you’ve been here before?”

“No, not the city. Just… Madison.”

“Huh. Maybe you knew someone named Madison, then.”

“Maybe.” Josh remembered how Tyler felt about speculation. He dropped the subject. They finished their lunch, and Tyler drank the broth out of the bowl and then cleared his throat. “So where do we go now?”

“I don’t know about you, but my head still hurts.” Tyler nodded. “So I figured we can scavenge a little bit here, and chill for a day. Set off tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tyler said, stretching his neck. Josh stood up and helped Tyler stand as well. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but Tyler was significantly lighter than he looked. Considering the minimal food they were eating, Josh wasn’t particularly surprised, but it did worry him a little. His hand lingered around Tyler’s thin wrist for a moment, but he let go, not wanting to make Tyler uncomfortable.

They walked back inside, being careful to avoid the puddle of vomit, and began to pack up their things. Josh wondered if his back would hurt a little less if he’d managed to make it to his sleeping roll. Tyler noted that they were once again running out of water, as well as food. Josh said they didn’t have more matches. Tyler’s notebook rested near the bottom of Josh’s backpack. For a moment, he considered taking it out and writing in it, just in case. It had been almost a week since either of them had written in it. Tyler interrupted his thoughts.

“Do we need to take out my stitches yet?” Tyler was sitting on the ground, looking at his ankle. The stitches looked a lot better, and the cuts were already scabbing over. Josh wondered if Tyler remembered exactly what happened.

“Um… I think it’s only been four days. That woman said a week.”

“Oh.” Tyler paused. “It’s only been four days?”

“Yeah.”

“It feels like a lot longer.” Tyler paused. “I think things are overlapping again.”

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t think it matters.” The response took Josh by surprise.

“It’s probably just because we’ve been doing pretty much nothing else but walking. It gets repetitive.”

“Yeah.” Josh could tell that Tyler was a little worried. His eyes were trained down to the ground. But then he shook his head and shrugged, rolling his shoulders. “It’s fine.” They finished packing. Madisonburg was a lot bigger in the daylight, when their whole world wasn’t a single story clothing store and a burning car. The majority of it seemed to be crumbled buildings. They found one old grocery store that was filled with putrid fruit, but in the back rooms, they found a few cans of pinto beans and a bag of cereal. It wasn’t much, but it was something. On their way out, they also found two dead bodies and a carcass of a Shadow. They didn’t dwell too long on this. Josh watched as Tyler’s eyes lingered on the neck of the decomposing man where it was bent at the worst angle. They kept walking.

The town _seemed_ abandoned. Josh had assumed that if there was anyone there, they would have come and found them when they started burning the car. The thought didn’t cross his mind that there might be someone else there with them until they opened the doors to a convenience store and were greeted with gunshots. Two ricocheted, hitting the glass behind them and shattering the doors. The third hit Tyler. He cursed and dropped his backpack to the ground, holding his shoulder. Blood seeped between his fingers.

Josh wouldn’t be caught off guard this time. He refused to be trapped again, helpless. In a split second, he had his gun in his hands and was scanning the shelves, trying to figure out what was going on. A moment later, someone’s head popped up over a display shelf full of window cleaner and dish soap, and he didn’t hesitate to shoot. Tyler was fumbling with his own gun, trying to load it with only one hand. It seemed that Josh’s first bullet had been accurate, as the person behind the display didn’t make a second appearance. Tyler stopped trying to load his gun when silence overtook the convenience store. Josh slowed his breathing, wondering if there were more people waiting to kill them.

As quickly as the situation escalated, it seemed as though it was over. Tyler and Josh stared into the store, Tyler with a fresh wound in his arm, Josh with a hot gun in his hands. After a moment, there was a sound like scratching, like footsteps on the tiles.

“Stay here,” Josh murmured, almost too quiet to hear, and held his gun out in front of him. The noise continued, emanating from the back of the store. They should have just left. Josh knew that they should have just left, ran, gotten as far away as possible. Instead, he kept creeping toward the display. Behind the bottles of cleaner, he saw the body of the man who’s head he’d just shot through. Dead. But that didn’t explain the sound. He took one more step, peering around the display. The man was dead alright. His blood seeped into the cracks between the tiles, eyes glassy. Across from him, on the other side of the store, there was a Shadow, eyes red, teeth pulled back into a snarl. Josh’s heart stopped. He stared at it.

It was slowly creeping closer, it’s claws clicking on the floor, spine arched and stretching the skin on its back. It looked like a dog. Or, rather, it looked like what used to be a dog. There were too many teeth in its mouth, sticking up not only from the inside but also from under its jaw, on top of its snout. The eyes were far apart and practically glowing. It had one too many legs. Josh took a step back as it started to growl, a deep, wet sound that reminded Josh of something gargling blood.

Behind him, there was a gunshot. It startled him enough to make his ears ring, and his blood ran cold. With his gun still trained on the Shadow in front of him, he turned to see another one already on top of Tyler, pinning him to the ground. Tyler had his hands on it’s face, trying to force its jaws away from him. He turned to look at Josh.

“Behind you!” Everything happened at once after that. He turned around too late. There were teeth in his stomach, clamping down just below his ribs, and the pain that came with those teeth was white hot. He could feel himself being dragged across the floor, shaken around like a chew toy. He was firing off rounds, praying that one of them would hit the thing, that he wouldn’t shoot Tyler on accident. He didn’t know if the sounds filling the store were from him or from Tyler or from the Shadows, but he felt something in his body crack, and there was no use in trying to figure anything out anymore.

Tyler was there. He had a knife in the neck of the beast that was still holding tight to Josh’s torso, knuckles white. The pressure let up only slightly, but the Shadow sagged to the ground. The second one jumped onto Tyler’s back, claws out. Josh blinked, and suddenly Tyler was on top, his hands around the things face and his feet on its shoulders. He pushed his legs out, and there was a crack that seemed to echo through the whole store. Josh choked on something that was in the back of his throat, and his stomach seared with pain. Tyler pushed the Shadow off of him, breathing heavily. Josh could feel the world beginning to go blurry. He couldn’t figure out what had just happened. Was he already dead? He couldn’t be dead. He had to get Tyler to the ocean.

“Josh?” The word sounded foreign to him. He coughed and there was iron in his mouth. “Fuck. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Tyler was prying the Shadow off of his flesh. “Ow. Fuck. Josh?” Tyler put his hand to Josh’s face. There was blood between his fingers, running down his arm, on his face, his body. Josh wanted to ask if he was okay, but the words didn’t come out. “Stay awake, okay? Stay awake. I’m right here, just… oh, shit…” There was pressure against his ribs, against his stomach, and then his vision went white. He wanted to scream. There was iron in his mouth again.

“Josh wake _up.”_

He opened his eyes. The pain was different now. Farther away.

“I– I don’t know what to do, I don’t… you gotta help me, I don’t know what to do.” Tyler sounded far away, _miles_ away. Help him do what? He blinked. Tyler had something in his hand, his fingers covered in blood. There was something black next to him, something Josh recognized. The med kit, the one that the interrogator had given them. Tyler was holding a needle, thread. He gagged. “Josh, Josh, fuck, what do I– d-do I just tie it? I don’t… Please don’t die.” Tyler was crying. There were tears making tracks in the blood on his face, dripping onto the floor in little pink splatters. It reminded Josh of the color that his red hair used to fade to. Maybe the next color he would dye it would be pink. The pressure was back on his stomach, but he couldn’t feel the pain anymore. It felt like his insides were being rearranged. He wanted to throw up.

Tyler’s hands were shaking. He could feel it against his skin, the way his fingers trembled and shook with uncertainty, with fear. The realization dropped upon him that he might die. He didn’t want to die. He had to get Tyler to the ocean. This trip was his life, it was his meaning. It was the only thing that mattered.

“Please don’t die,” Tyler kept repeating. He was trying. He was trying not to die. Tyler was trying to save him, and he was trying not to die. “Please.” The world went white at first. It was comforting, light, safe. He hated it.

Then it went black, as black as the Shadows, as black as Tyler’s tattoos. He didn’t want to die. He felt Tyler’s hands shaking against his skin. He didn’t want to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry it took me a while to publish- as I predicted, I have absolutely no motivation... blegh. But I know that you guys are really enjoying this story, so I absolutely refuse to abandon it. Just be patient with me. Hope you enjoyed! Please leave feedback if you want– I love hearing it :)


	23. Reality is Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the short chapter and the slow update– meds are rough and sickness is rough and life is rough but I'm gonna stick with it anyway. Hope you enjoy.

There was nothing in particular, he felt, that was holding him to the ground, to the earth, to the universe, other than his name, and the names that bounced around in his head. _Tyler. Josh. The girl. The other._ There were more. He couldn’t remember them yet, but he knew that there were more.

Other than those, the names, he was floating. There was the sea. He knew that. A great ocean of crystal clear water, so clear that he could see down to the bottom. Though his face was under the water, he wasn’t drowning. Not yet. There was nothing there that could make him drown yet, and he didn’t want to drown himself, not this time at least. This time, he stared down at the sea floor, waiting for something to come into his mind that would make him understand why he felt so much dread in the bottom of his stomach and in the tips of his fingers.

From the bottom of the ocean, he could see bones. They were pale white, and if he focused, he could feel the smooth texture under his fingertips. It felt familiar in a disturbingly comfortable way, the texture of bones. Maybe he’d felt them before.

The bones began to leak black shadows, seeping out from cracks that were inexplicably forming along their lengths. He didn’t feel fear. He was growing tired of this, of the monotonous nature of terror and lack of control. He was tired. He was tired.

The girl appeared underneath him, floating below him in the water. Her appearance didn’t startle him. It was only a matter of time, anyway. When she spoke, the bubbles flew up from her mouth and grazed his cheeks.

“ _You’ve grown bored of this, have you?”_ He blinked at her. The answer was _yes_ but he didn’t want to tell her that. “ _Grown tired of me?”_ The answer was still yes. _“Even when I hold all of the answers?”_ He opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but instead, the water under his lips turned red and his own tongue floated down in the water beneath him. It was an odd sight to see. It made his stomach churn involuntarily. _“You don’t even know what you want to ask.”_ She was right. He didn’t. He closed his mouth and let the blood flow around his teeth. The water wasn’t as clear anymore. It was tinted red and black. He looked past the haze. He knew what he wanted to ask.

_“The bones are your fault.”_ The other was back. He had grown tired of the other as well, the way its eyes and the girls eyes haunted his memories even when they didn’t haunt his nightmares. He wanted to ask _why_ they were his fault. He had grown tired of not knowing. _“You do not fear me anymore.”_ The statement was false in some ways, but true in most. Some part of Tyler’s mind didn’t fear death anymore. Not the death of a fake self, anyway. Some part of Tyler’s mind told him that there were worse things in the world.

The ocean was no longer the ocean, and Tyler was no longer floating where he had once been floating. He was upright, walking through a forest that wasn’t a forest. The trees were all the same, all made from dark wood, as though someone had carved a tree out of a tree and polished the surfaces with blood and ink. He ran his fingers across one of them, and it left his fingerprints behind– not the smudgy oils that he expected, but rather, the actual skin of his fingertips was left on the wood as though it had been melted off of his hand.

“ _The bones are your fault_ ,” A voice said, but it was not the other. “ _I am your fault_ ,” The voice said, and Tyler realized that the bones were speaking to him from the treetops. _“You should have drowned._ ” His fingertips would not stop melting off. They dripped down from his hands until the bones of his knuckles could be seen and there was no more skin, and then the melting traveled up his wrists and his arms and his shoulders until he was a skeleton child walking through a forest of artificial trees. “ _The bones are your fault,_ ” said the bones, _“and you should have drowned the first time you tried_.”

 

Tyler woke up, unsure of whether or not the dream was a dream or a nightmare. It certainly seemed unsettling, at the least. The memory remained clear in his head, surprisingly, as most other things tended to disappear without a trace. He blinked at the darkness, expecting it to go away. He got the feeling that he was surrounded by stone. Cement, maybe. The room felt familiar, which was odd, considering that he couldn’t see where he was. There was breathing. Logic told him _Josh._ The room refused to come into focus. He blinked again, and the darkness answered him with something he didn’t want.

In the room, there was his own breath, and the breath that he assumed to be Josh, but there was something else breathing with them. The darkness was moving, pulsing in front of his eyes, and in his skin, he could feel it touching him. He could feel the way it wrapped around his arms and his neck and his eyes, pulling at him. This was wrong. This was wrong.

He wanted to wake up, now. The feeling of floating that he had in his whole body told him that he hadn’t, in fact woken up, that he’d simply opened his eyes into another reality. The breathing in the room was multiplying, becoming more numerous by the second. He wasn’t so sure that any one of those lungs were Josh’s. The room was still dark, but now it was windy, full of moving air, baked in the lungs of some unknown monsters lurking in the dark.

_“Are you afraid now?”_ The girl asked, and then she laughed, or maybe it was meant to be a laugh. Instead, it sounded like screaming, like the noise someone would make right before they died and didn’t want to die. Her voice sounded like it was close enough to Tyler’s heart to be his own voice. He didn’t like it. He wanted to wake up. He realized that his tongue was still missing from his mouth, and where it used to be, it felt like there were beetles crawling and scratching at his cheeks. He threw up red light into the room that wasn’t a room at all. It was the ocean.

Of course it was the ocean. It was always the ocean.

_“Are you afraid now?”_ The girl repeated, now with her face nearly touching Tyler’s, nose to nose. Her eyes were so familiar. Maybe that was what made him begin to fear. He didn’t know why she was so familiar. Something so awful shouldn’t be so familiar, and yet the feeling only grew. Her neck split open suddenly, her tongue falling back down her throat and out of the open hole there. She laughed again. Tyler wanted to move, wanted to scream, but he was paralyzed, just as he always was, or as he always felt he was. His bones wouldn’t listen to him, a boy without a skeleton, floating in a red ocean. He wanted to wake up.

 

Tyler woke up, certain that the dream within the dream was a nightmare, not a dream. He woke up, and realized that he hadn’t woken up. This was no longer monotonous. He wanted to be alive now, to be awake, to see Josh and know that things were okay, that the real world wouldn’t be tormented by bleeding girls and nameless beings and bones that spoke to him. But maybe this _was_ the real world. He blinked.

The ocean was in the sky this time, rippling red and black, sunless. It dripped long streams of sludge down to the desert earth where he stood, sinking slowly into the sand. It was covering his ankles. He could do nothing to pick his legs up, nothing to move his toes or his muscles. He wanted to _wake up._

_“Are you afraid now?”_

“Yes,” he said, but the word wasn’t a word, and beetles began to crawl out from between his lips. They tickled the back of his throat before wandering farther. He could feel them as they crept into his lungs, stealing the screams from the bottom of his organs. “Yes, yes, please,” he said, and beetles crawled out and flew towards the ocean above him, and his words were lost. The girl smiled.

_“I know,_ ” she said.

_“You deserve this,_ ” she said, and the other said, and the bones said.

“I deserve this,” Tyler said, and beetles flew out instead of words. He hoped that this was what they wanted. That this would set him free. Instead, the sea of sand swallowed him up even further. This time, it wasn’t the girl that smiled. It was the other. It was puzzling to see something so enigmatic possess teeth, but they existed despite his confusion. It smiled, and leaned down until it’s teeth were right in front of Tyler’s eyes. He didn’t dare blink.

_“Why do you deserve this?”_ He didn’t know. He didn’t know. This would set him free, he could feel it– the answer to this question was the answer that he’d been looking for, but he didn’t know. _“Why?”_

_“Why?”_ Said the girl and the bones.

“I don’t know,” said Tyler, his mouth full of beetles, and as soon as he said it, their pincers began to claw at his insides, tearing him apart. He could feel the blood pooling inside of him as though he were the ocean itself, as though he was drowning from the inside out. “I’m sorry,” he said, but the words came out as blood-soaked beetles, their wings too heavy with red to carry them into the sea above them. “Tell me,” he said. The other smiled again.

_“No.”_

 

Tyler woke up, and the girl was standing in front of him with her neck split open and her eyes wide, teeth sharp, fingers stretched out towards him. He wanted to protect his own neck, to keep her from taking what was his, but she dug her nails in and tore him apart.

 

Tyler woke up, horizontal, and the other was horizontal, facing down at him, floating in void. He smiled, and from between his teeth, trails of blood and ink and snakes fell, dripping themselves into Tyler’s eyes until his vision was all black and wriggling.

 

Tyler woke up with bones weighing him down, tied around his wrists, around his neck, dragging him deeper into darkness, down to the bottom of a world that he couldn’t see the bottom of. He wanted to wake up. He wanted to wake up. _He wanted to wake up._

_“IT’S YOUR FAULT.”_ It was his fault.

 

***

Tyler woke up. He stared up at a sky that was not blood or ink, breathed in air that was not from other monster’s lungs. There were fingers intertwined with his. He could feel his hand shaking, his breath shaking. Tears slipped down his cheeks, but he didn’t remember when he had started crying. The fingers tightened slightly, and he didn’t want to look at who they belonged to for fear that he might hate the answer.

“Ty.” It was Josh. It was Josh, and he sounded like he had been pulled apart and sewn back together. Tyler turned his head and found that this wasn’t too far from the truth. In the light of the full moon, Tyler could see the blood that was on his hands, on Josh’s hands, on Josh’s body. There were lines of messy stitches all over his stomach, no doubt put in place by Tyler’s inexperienced, shaky hands. Josh was pale, unsteady, his eyes half lidded. Tyler realized that he’d probably woken him up with his nightmare. Nightmares. Chain of bad dreams. He breathed, and Josh breathed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but Josh didn’t answer.

Reality was worse than his dreams.

Reality meant that if Josh died, he died for good.

Reality meant that Tyler would forget what he was meant to be doing, what he _needed_ to be doing.

Reality meant that Josh was dying. Tyler could see it in the way his chest stuttered with every breath, in the way his eyes wouldn’t focus, in the way his hands shook but he didn’t seem to notice them shaking. He could see it in the blood that still dripped slowly from wounds that weren’t stitched right. Josh would die, and it would be his fault. The tears kept falling slowly down his face, and he did nothing to stop them. Josh was going to die, and it was going to be his fault.

And then he would forget.

He didn’t want to forget.

He wanted to scream.

Instead, he laid awake, his shaking hand in Josh’s shaking hand, for the rest of the night. He watched the sun rise on a new day, but nothing in the colors of the sky would save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry for the short chapter. Actual plot movement will happen in the next one, I promise– and maybe I'll get that one out in a timely fashion. Motivation is still rough, but I refuse to be one of those authors that abandons a work halfway through, so don't worry. It'll get there. Thanks for reading, and leave a comment if you want?


	24. Fragmented

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyyyy here's an update :) I got a new computer (!!) so pls tell me if there are any issues with the formatting and I'll try to fix them!

It was when Josh was asleep and his shirt was hiked up just enough to see the jagged stitches in his stomach that Tyler remembered the stitched in his own ankle. The skin was red, but he had no memory to compare it to. He didn’t remember what it had looked like before. 

The two of them were in what used to be a hardware store, in the section that held power tools and screws and nails. It seemed that at one point, he’d felt that it was safer to be here than anywhere else, and the logic still made sense. It was an area that no one would think to scavenge. Who in the wasteland had use for a power drill? He sat on the ground next to Josh, scissors in one hand and tweezers in the other, slowly pulling the stitches out from under his skin. It would have been easier if someone else was doing it, if someone else was controlling the speed at which the little snakes of thread were winding their way out of his skin, but Josh had his eyes closed and Tyler didn’t want to know if he was awake or not. When he was halfway around his ankle, he glanced over to find Josh’s eyes on him. He blinked. Josh blinked. It was the first time that he seemed coherent since the Shadow incident.

“Hey,” Tyler said, unsure of what else he was supposed to say. Josh blinked again, slowly, and then winced at the movement that came with breathing. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft and cracking. “I’m not dead.”

“No,” Tyler sighed. “You’re not.”

“I thought I was dead.” Josh groaned and attempted to sit up. Tyler dropped the tweezers and scissors and leaned over to help him. After a moment of struggling to get comfortable, he finally helped Josh situate himself with his back against a shelf of drywall screws. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “What were you doing?” He asked finally. 

“Um. Taking out the stitches in my ankle.”

“Oh. Right,” Josh said. “Forgot about those.” He looked down at his stomach, placing a hand gingerly over the gashes there. “I really thought I was dead,” he said, not looking up to see Tyler’s expression. Tyler didn’t know what to say. 

“Me too,” he said after a moment of silence. Josh sighed again. 

“How long have I been out?” he asked. Tyler searched his memory for an answer that would be reasonable, but in truth, he didn’t know. He couldn’t remember how much time had passed. All he remembered was forcing Josh to drink water, cleaning the blood out of his stitches, dragging him slowly to somewhere safer than they were. “You don’t remember, do you?” Tyler looked up to find Josh staring intently at him. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said, adjusting his torso a little and wincing. “I was just curious.” He took a deep breath. Tyler wished they still had the pain meds. Maybe then Josh wouldn’t have to deal with so much of the hell he was in. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he responded automatically, not considering the question. 

“Your arm, Tyler,” Josh said. Tyler looked down at his bicep and saw the blood that was crusted there, covering the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Oh.” He blinked at the bullet wound. He didn’t know how to fix it. It didn’t matter. “I’m fine,” he said again. Josh sighed. Tyler picked up his tools again and went back to pulling stitches out of his ankle. Josh watched him intently for a while.

“Do we have water?” Josh asked. Tyler paused in his surgical task, unsure of the answer. He remembered giving a lot to Josh, using a lot to clean out both of their wounds. 

“I don’t know,” he said. He leaned over and pulled his backpack towards the two of them, opening it up and checking inside. There were several empty plastic bottles. He checked Josh’s as well. A half full bottle still remained inside. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d had water, or since Josh had water. He passed the bottle to Josh despite the soreness he felt in his own throat. 

“Is this the last of it?” Tyler nodded. Josh stared down at the bottle in his hand for a moment, but eventually twisted open the cap slowly and raised it to his lips. Even that slight movement made his face scrunch up in pain. Tyler wanted to do something. He wanted to help, to do _anything_ , but he didn’t know how to help. He’d already pulled Josh’s skin back together as best he could. He wasn’t a doctor. Or, at least, he didn’t think he was a doctor. The lack of medical muscle memory certainly seemed to imply that he had never _been_ a doctor. “Where are we?” Josh asked after swallowing. 

“A hardware store.”

“But where?”

“The same town as before.” Josh nodded. 

“Maybe… we should keep moving.” Tyler just stared at him. There was no way he could walk, not in the state he was in. “We need water. And… maybe antiseptic or… antibiotics or something. For both of us. And if there was one raider here, there’s bound to be more. We can’t risk staying here.” Tyler blinked. 

“Josh, I don’t even think you can stand–“

“We can’t stay here.” There was something behind his voice, something that made Tyler not want to question him. The statement itself was almost a command, but behind it there was fear. Josh’s hands were shaking. Tyler looked back down at his ankle and pulled out another one of his stitches. 

“We can’t move. Not yet. Just… wait a day. Eat something. Finish the water.” Josh seemed to realize that the tone of the conversation had changed and simply nodded, taking another sip out of the bottle. 

Tyler pulled another stitch from his ankle. 

 

***

 

They’d found a car. Tyler learned that he knew how to drive. The muscle memory came back to him as soon as he pulled himself into the driver’s seat. Josh had laid down across the back seats, requesting that Tyler drive as smoothly as possible. 

They’d been walking for at least two miles before they found the car on the highway that was actually functional, and in his head, Tyler called it a miracle. There was still half a tank of gas in it. When they started driving, they found two dead bodies down the road, looking pretty fresh, and covered in what seemed to be Shadow injuries. They had a backpack, and the backpacks had water and three cans of baked beans. A miracle. 

Now they were cruising down the highway, heading east once again. Josh breathed lightly in the backseat, and Tyler avoided all the cracks in the road and roadkill that scattered the asphalt, though the roadkill was more dead bodies than anything else. Usually, the death was more spread apart when they were walking. Now he could clearly see the real reason why there were so few people left in the world. They were all dead on the side of the road. 

As endless road fell behind them and stretched out in front of them, Tyler was beginning to feel his focus slipping. He couldn’t tell how long they’d been driving for. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since Josh had gotten hurt. His arm was killing him, that much he knew. He couldn’t even lift it up to the steering wheel, so he let it lay limp in his lap while he drove. One of the windows of the car was busted out, and it made him realize that his hair was getting longer when the wind blew through it. 

Josh shifted in the back seat, and he felt like he was snapping back into reality. He couldn’t zone out. Not now, not when he was driving and when Josh needed to get somewhere safe, somewhere where he could be helped. Still, he felt his focus slipping. He elected to remind himself of the important things; his name, Josh’s name, where they were, what was going on. It would be okay. It had to be okay. 

The road continued passing, Josh continued breathing. The pain in Tyler’s arm was slowly radiating to his shoulder and chest, but they had to keep going. The next town over was still twelve miles away. He just hoped that he would stay focused for long enough to get them there. 

 

 

***

 

He couldn’t remember finding the car, but he was certainly driving it. He couldn’t remember what happened, but Josh was certainly hurt. And Tyler was hurt too, it seemed. His arm was throbbing, and it felt hot, like it was on fire. He knew it wasn’t good, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He couldn’t remember the last time Josh had woken up, either. He didn’t know what was wrong. There were too many unknowns. 

East. He knew that they were going east. He knew that they were going east, and that they needed food, and water, and shelter. And gas. The little gauge was blinking at him from the dashboard of the car. Josh would know what to do, how or where to get gas, but he didn’t want to wake him up. He could handle this. He knew that he could. In the rear view mirror, Tyler could see Josh sleeping, his back pressed against the seats. His stitches were bleeding again. Tyler could see a little puddle of red underneath his body. A similar puddle was growing on his own seat where his blood was dripping down his arm. He sighed and adjusted his grip on the wheel. 

The world shifted suddenly, abruptly, every so often. They were in a different place each time. Not drastically different, but just enough for Tyler to notice that he’d forgotten something. He needed Josh to wake up, to talk to him. Otherwise, he was afraid that the monotony of the car ride would force him to blank on everything he was supposed to be doing. The notebook rested tohis right in the passenger seat, the pages slowly beginning to crumple at the edges. Every time that the world shifted, he would check the notebook, write something down, making sure that he was keeping track of things. Josh would usually do this for him.

Josh would have loved the car. He would have wanted to drive it and rev the engine and go as fast as he could. Tyler found himself wondering if he would ever get to drive, and then he had to physically shake the thought from his head. He couldn’t think like that. It would be okay. It had to be okay.

 

•••

 

“Can you pass the water?”

“We’re out of water.”

“Oh.” It was the third time Josh had asked him. He was beginning to understand what it was like for Josh to talk to _him._ “I don’t feel good,” Josh said, his voice quiet. 

“I know.” Tyler didn’t feel good either. 

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” There was silence in the car.

“Am I dying?”

“No.” 

“Are you dying?”

“Maybe.” He couldn’t really feel his arm anymore, aside from the burning that was going through his fingers and his chest.

“Don’t die,” Josh said, as though either of them had a choice.

“I won’t.” They were running out of gas again. Tyler had managed to leak some out of a gas station pump that he’d seen along the side of the road. He couldn’t remember how long they’d been traveling for. The only indication that he had of time passing was how much worse Josh looked than the last time that he remembered. His eyes were sunken in, and whenever he spoke, his voice came out cracked and quiet. He didn’t even want to know what his own face looked like. Probably half dead, if the way that he felt was any indication. The car hit a bump and Josh groaned in the back seat. 

“Sorry,” Tyler said, adjusting his grip on the wheel. The gas light blinked at him again. When he checked the rear view mirror, Josh had his eyes closed, his mouth hanging halfway open. He hoped he was just sleeping and not unconscious. 

 

***

 

There was a certain amount of panic that came with the realization that time was passing without Tyler realizing it or remembering it. He didn’t know how many hours had passed, or how many days for that matter. Reality came to him in short bursts. He felt like he was waking up into a new world every time, a world where Josh kept getting paler and paler, more and more tired, where Tyler’s hands were shaking more and his stomach was growling louder. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d had water. All he knew was that every time he reached for the bottle, he pulled his hand away, knowing that Josh would need it more. 

 

***

 

It always came back to raiders. Tyler found himself sitting on the ground next to Josh, tears streaming down his face. He had nowhere left to turn, nothing left that he could do. Moments ago, three people had pointed their guns at him and Josh when they were getting out of their car to make food for the evening. 

Now, the two of them were left with nothing. Their car was gone, backpacks gone, water, food, everything. Gone. And Tyler couldn’t think of anything to do but sit on the ground and cry while Josh watched him, unable to even sit upright without help from Tyler. He wanted to die, but he didn’t. He wanted to cease to exist. He wanted the world to cease to exist. The only comfort in his head was that the raiders hadn’t shot him and Josh on the spot, that they’d at least left them to die in their own special way that they would choose for themselves. 

His notebook was gone. There was nothing that he could do about it. They’d taken it, and he couldn’t even tell if Josh knew what was going on. He had been out of it for a while, and he barely even noticed when the raiders had pulled him out of the way of the car and aimed a gun at his head. Tyler wiped his eyes and took a shaky breath. Josh’s shaky hand inched its way toward him, and Tyler took it into his own hand, letting his fingers stroke over the skin on Josh’s palm. 

“We’ll be okay,” he lied. Josh smiled at him and let his eyes close. It seemed that they were done moving for the day. Tyler tried not to think about how utterly screwed they were as he laid his head down on the asphalt, out in the open. He didn’t care. He really didn’t. They had nothing left for anyone to steal, except for their lives, and he was beginning to wonder if he really wanted to keep his life, too. 

 

***

 

East. He knew that they were going east. He didn’t know much else, though. There was a boy with blue hair with one arm slumped over his shoulders, and his own arm felt like it was currently being sawed in half by a rusty knife. 

He couldn’t remember his name. He couldn’t remember blue-hair’s name, either. Nothing made sense. His head pounded with every step, but they had to keep going. East. They were going east. East would save them. 

The world swam in and out of clarity, and he was beginning to feel like he was underwater. His own thoughts sounded like they were coming from someone else’s mind, reminding him of the danger that they were in, of the death that was waiting for them if they stopped moving. It wasn’t made easier by the way that blue-hair dragged his feet, or the way that the sun beat down on them. He had no answers to any of his questions, and he didn’t even know what questions to ask. 

He wondered if life had always been like this. He wondered if it was worth it to keep walking, but the fear of dying followed him with every step. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to die. There was no doubt in his mind about that. The feeling of not wanting to die was familiar when nothing else was, so he clung to it as firmly as he was clinging to blue-hair. He clung to life. If it wasn’t worth it to live, then maybe it wasn’t worth it to die, either. 

He felt like he was forgetting something. 

He felt like he was forgetting everything.

 

***

 

Blue-hair hadn’t opened his eyes in as long as he could remember, and though he couldn’t remember back very far, he still got the distinct feeling that something was very, very wrong. He’d positioned himself under the body of the boy and lifted him up on his back, holding onto both of his arms like he was holding a cape around his neck. Blue-hair’s feet were dragging behind him. His own legs were almost giving out. 

The road in front of him seemed to stretch out for miles. He didn’t know where he was, or where he was going, or what he was doing. East. They were going east. But did it even matter now? They were both dead where they stood, barely even getting anywhere. He wondered when the last time he had food was, or when he drank water. It felt like it had been years. 

His foot caught in a crack of the road, and he didn’t even try to catch himself. His knees skidded against the rough asphalt, followed by his elbows, and then his chin. He could feel himself bleeding. He wondered if it was even _possible_ to feel oneself bleeding, but he could feel it. He could feel a heartbeat against his back, and his own heartbeat against the road.

He tried to get up after a while, but failed. He only managed to roll blue-hair off of his back, and he didn’t even wake up at the sudden movement. 

Maybe this was how he died. He wouldn’t care if it was. Nothing made sense anymore. The whole world was _east_ now, and he hardly believed that it was worth it now. 

 

***

 

In the abyss of thought, he heard voices. He felt hands on him, on his skin, fingers touching his face. In his head, he pictured them as demons, clawed hands coming to take him off to hell, to drag him through the dirt until he was buried. They were saying a name, _Tyler._ They were saying, _it’s going to be okay._ He didn’t believe them.

He didn’t believe them. 

It wouldn’t be okay. 

Why wouldn’t they just let him die in peace?

There was another voice, one that sounded like it didn’t really exist, like it was never meant to exist, and it sounded more familiar than he wanted it to.

Y _ou should have drowned the first time you tried_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Meds have been getting better, so that's fun, and I'm not sick anymore :) Hope you enjoyed the chapter!! Sorry that it's (another) cliffhanger >:) Leave a comment if you want!!


	25. UPDATE!!

This isn't one of those chapters where authors are like "i'm not writing anymore!" this is just me writing to tell anyone who regularly checks updates on this story that I won't be posting until AT THE EARLIEST TUESDAY. I know I usually post on sundays, but I have a LOT of work to do this week because I'm graduating soon (!!!!) so I have so much SHIT that i have to DO (ugh) but I'm not abandoning this! I just wanted to let people know that I'm still working on it but it's gonna be a few more days until the next chapter! Just so you know!! Thanks!! And sorry if I got your hopes up with this baby chapter... sorry! :(


	26. Half Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyyy here's another – this one doesn't end in a cliffhanger (you're welcome) Thanks for reading!

When he woke up, his mind was blank. It was as though there had never been a thought in his head, never a memory to be had or an experience to remember. He wondered if this was what being born felt like.

The room he was in was well lit, but dull in color, all earthy browns and sandy shades of white. He stared at the ceiling, waiting for his head to stop feeling like it was full of cotton. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know _who_ he was. The feeling of not knowing anything was the only thing that was familiar, and he wished that it wasn’t. 

“Tyler?” 

The voice next to him that made him jump, but when he jerked his arms, he found that they were immobile. There were too many questions that bounced around his head; he couldn’t decide which to ask. He yanked at the straps around his wrists and looked around. The man sitting next to his bed was tall and tired looking, leaning forward in his chair. The name, Tyler, resonated in the room. It sounded familiar. Recognizable. Maybe it was his own name? It sounded right. Tyler blinked at the man in the chair, and he stood up abruptly, his face suddenly concerned. Tyler flinched and yanked harder at his wrists.

“Wait, wait, it’s okay, just… hold on…” Tyler watched the man carefully as he started to undo the straps. “You were trying to hurt yourself in your sleep, so these… you’re not in any danger. I swear.” Tyler just stared at him, unsure of what to say or how to react. The man leaned over him and undid the restraint on his right hand, and when he was done, he stood back, clearly waiting for some kind of response. 

Tyler tried to think of the most important question he could ask, maybe one that would give him any kind of context at all.

“You don't remember me, do you?” He felt some flutter of familiarity. The feeling of not remembering. He vaguely knew that there was something wrong with his head, that there had been something wrong with his head for a long time. The man in front of Tyler was a stranger, but also somehow not. He felt guilty for forgetting. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. Hearing his own voice was comforting. It sounded quiet, a little broken, but it was _his._ He was slowly remembering himself. It was a strange feeling.

“It’s okay. You… we…” The man laughed to himself, shaking his head. “I don’t know where to start. This is crazy.” Tyler knew where he wanted to start. 

“Where are we?”

“Hometown,” the man said with a smile, as though it were something to be proud of. 

“What?”

“It’s a secluded community. Safe. Mostly underground.”

“So there are other people?” He pushed himself up onto his elbows, finding that his muscles were sore and tired. He wondered what had happened for him to wind up here. 

“Yeah. Lots. You’ve been here before.”

“I don’t remember.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Matt. I’m the doctor here.” Tyler leaned back and found that there was a wall behind him. He propped himself up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. His arm throbbed when he moved it, and he lifted up the white t-shirt sleeve to find stitches on his bicep. 

“What happened?”

“Well, I mean… I’m not sure, exactly. I figured that you wouldn’t remember, though. Lewis, one of the others here, found you and your friend while he was out on a supply run–“

“My friend?”

“Uh… I don’t know his name. Blue hair?”

“Josh.” The name came back to him, leaving his lips before he could even consider it. He didn’t know where it came from, but it was right. It sounded right. 

“Yeah. He was in bad shape.” Something in Tyler’s gut twisted. “He’s okay–” Matt said, putting his hands up as he realized the implications of his initial statement. “He’s fine. Sleeping. Like you were, before.” Tyler nodded slightly. “But you two were on the road between two of the towns that Lewis was searching. He thought you were dead at first, but then he recognized _you._ I couldn’t believe it when he told me. We… we all thought you were dead.”

“Why?”

“You just disappeared a few years ago. All your stuff was still here, but you… you were gone. We looked for you, but…”

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said again, guilt twisting in his chest. Matt shook his head. 

“I’m just glad you’re okay. You had a pretty bad infection there,” he said, nodding his head toward the stitches in Tyler’s arm. “The fever was crazy. You were talking nonsense, having nightmares…” Matt stopped talking when he saw the look on Tyler’s face. He cleared his throat, and scratched his head. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He looked around the room, examining the surroundings. Now that he looked at it, it wasn’t a room at all. It was a curtained off area in the corner of a larger room. He wanted to see more. “What now?” Matt shrugged.

“I could show you around Hometown, if you want. Maybe you’ll remember something?” Tyler didn’t answer. Based on the minuscule amount of memories he had at the moment, he didn’t feel that it was very likely. It concerned him more that he couldn’t remember Matt, who he’d apparently already met before in his life. There was no way of telling whether or not he was lying about being a friend, or lying about where they were. But it didn’t seem like a very good information finding strategy to start out by telling the first person he met that he didn’t trust them.

“What about Josh?” He asked. He felt a connection to the name, a vague notion of the color blue, of dark eyes, of messy hair, scarred skin. He wanted to know that he was okay.

“Of course. We can go see him, too. He’s resting right now. Hasn’t woken up yet, but he will. We can see him.” Tyler nodded. It made him feel better, even if he didn’t fully trust Matt yet. He just needed to know that Josh was okay. The feeling was unshakable, despite not being able to put a face to a name. He didn’t even remember what had happened for him to wind up tied to a hospital bed underground. The word _Hometown_ bounced around in his head. It sounded, like most things, familiar, but of course, like most things, he couldn’t figure out why.

He swung both of his legs over the side of the bed, but found out rather quickly that his muscles were significantly weaker than he expected. His knees buckled under the sudden pressure, and he found his head pounding, his hearing muffled. Matt was saying something, putting his hands on Tyler’s shoulders and forcing him to sit back down on the bed, but his voice sounded like it was underwater. Tyler let his head drop down between his shoulders, waiting for the ringing to stop. After a moment, he could hear Matt’s voice again, but he kept his eyes closed.

“Tyler? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, his own voice still sounding a little wrong. He shook his head to try to clear it a little more. “Dizzy.”

“You stood up too fast.” Tyler nodded. “Do you want water?” Tyler nodded again. “Okay. One sec.” He could hear the curtain slide back, and he opened his eyes and looked up, curious to see the rest of the room. It was all off-white, full of other curtained off rooms. From the back corner, a woman was peering at him. He met her eyes for a second. She had stitches running all the way from her bicep to her wrist. He wondered what it was from. She looked away without saying anything, and he blinked, turning his attention back to the room. His own reflection startled him, catching him off guard. 

It wasn’t a true mirror that he was looking into; just a large window, a long pane of glass that covered the front of the room. In it, he got a good look at himself, sitting there on the bed. He reminded himself of a walking skeleton, eyes sunken in, skin and bones. His hair was short, buzzed, and over the top of his left ear and under the short hair he could see stitches protruding. He couldn’t remember what had happened. He was getting more questions than answers, and it made him anxious. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Matt, who was standing and staring at him with a water bottle in his hand. Tyler blinked at him, and he blinked back before walking towards him again and handing him the bottle. 

“We had to shave your head. To put the stitches in.” Tyler nodded. “And Lewis wanted to make sure you didn’t have any other swelling or anything.”

“Lewis?”

“The… the one who found you. I told you –“

“Right, right. Sorry. Forgot.” Tyler tapped the right side of his head, the side without stitches, as though the action itself acted as some kind of explanation. 

“Right. No. My bad.” Tyler cracked open the water bottle and drank almost half of it in one go, only then noticing how dry his throat was. He hadn’t even felt the stitches in his head. What else was there that he didn’t notice?

“What…” He started the question without knowing where it was going. Matt stared at him, waiting for the rest of the sentence. “Am I okay? Like, physically? I just… didn’t know the stitches were there. Is there anything else?” Matt nodded, understanding what Tyler meant. 

“There was a bullet in your arm that we took out and stitched up,” he began as Tyler kept drinking his water. “The gash in your head. Uh… You had an already healing injury on your ankle, but we couldn’t figure out what it was from.” Tyler shrugged. He didn’t remember. “You had a sprained wrist, too. Other than that, it was mostly dehydration and malnutrition.” Tyler didn’t know exactly what the words meant, but he had a feeling they had something to do with food and water. He finished the bottle. “Feeling better?” Matt asked as Tyler lowered the bottle. 

“Yeah. Thanks.” 

“Do you want to see Josh?” Tyler blinked down at the bottle and then nodded. 

 

***

 

Josh looked like a skeleton as well, as it turned out. Where Tyler remembered there being vibrant blue hair, there was just a faded pale icy color, and it made his pale skin appear even more void of color. Bandages wrapped all the way around his chest and stomach, and there was a needle in his arm that led to a bag of what Tyler assumed to be blood. He didn’t want to ask where Matt had gotten blood. It didn’t matter. 

“He’s okay, right?” Tyler asked unable to take his eyes away from Josh. 

“He’ll be fine. There was some infection, and a lot of blood loss, but the injury to his stomach was the most pressing matter, and that’s stable now.”

“Okay. Good.” He felt sick to his stomach. His knees were shaking. The only assurance he was offered was in the rise and fall of Josh’s chest, a physical reminder that Josh was alive, that he was breathing. 

“I… do you remember anything?”

“About what?” The answer was _no_ no matter what Matt was referring to, but Tyler was trying to hold out some hope.

“Well, it looked like the wound was most likely from a mutant.”

“Mutant?”

“The black animals. Sometimes people. Affected by the radiation, by the wasteland–“

“Shadows.”

“What?” Tyler had startled himself when he spoke. He blinked down at Josh. After a pause, he repeated himself.

“Shadows… we called them Shadows.” He had a distant recollection of their blackened faces, sharp rows of too many teeth. He remembered the way that one of them had clamped its jaws around Josh’s torso and shaken him like he was some kind of toy. He remembered the color red. He remembered trying to stitch Josh back together again. He remembered crying, screaming, begging him to wake up. 

“ _Tyler._ ” He was sitting on the ground by Josh’s bed, his eyes wide, breathing too quickly. He could feel his hands shaking. Matt was holding onto his shoulders, and he was too close. Tyler immediately shoved him back away from him. Matt put his hands out in front of him, kneeling back. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Tyler just nodded, slowly remembering where he was. “You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s okay.” Tyler nodded, but the guilt was still festering in his mind, in his heart, in his stomach. Matt was looking at him like he knew him, like he _cared,_ like he’d _always_ cared. But Tyler couldn’t remember his eyes, his voice, _anything._ He couldn’t remember Hometown. 

“I’m sorry I forgot you,” he said. Matt looked at him, his eyes suddenly becoming duller, sadder. He sighed, sitting down on the floor with his legs crossed. Tyler’s hands were still shaking. 

“Me too.” He paused. “It’s not your fault.” It was Tyler’s turn to sigh. He leaned up against Josh’s bed, comforted by the sound of his breathing so close to his head. He felt safe, despite knowing nothing about where he was, despite knowing that he and Josh had clearly nearly died. 

“What was I like? Before?” Matt smiled and looked down. 

“A little quieter. But you haven’t changed much.” The look on Matt’s face didn’t make Tyler feel less guilty. It looked like he was happy, remembering how Tyler used to be. “You… jeez. It was so long ago. We really thought you were dead, Tyler.”

“I’m sorry–“

“No, no– I didn’t mean… I’m happy that you’re not. That’s what I’m trying to say.” Tyler didn’t know how to answer, but it seemed that Matt didn’t need him to. “When you first came here, it was under pretty similar circumstances. I guess last time, though you… you were a little closer to dying.” Tyler looked up at him, but his eyes were staring off somewhere towards the ceiling, his thoughts far away. “You had a crack in your head the length of my hand. Took you months just to open your eyes.”

“What happened?” Matt shrugged.

“I don’t know. We found you like that, lying next to the building where we lock up our winter gear. When you woke up, you couldn’t remember a thing.” He felt like he was learning something important, something he’d forgotten for years. This was why. This was _why._ He couldn’t remember anything, couldn’t make memories, and this was _why._ This was an answer he knew he’d been looking for for so long; he could tell by the relief flooding into his chest. It wasn’t the whole answer– not by far. But it was a start. His memory didn’t work because he’d gotten a crack in his skull the size of a hand. “After almost a year, you remembered your name.” Matt smiled, almost laughing. “Up until then, we’d called you… uh… John, or Dave, or something like that. Tyler suits you more, though.” 

Tyler nodded. He agreed. He didn’t feel like a John or a Dave. He adjusted his legs so that he wasn’t putting as much weight on his ankle. He could see dashed lines of scabs and scar tissue going around the whole thing. He remembered metal teeth, but nothing more. He wanted Josh to wake up so that he could have someone to tell him what had happened, who he was. Josh took a particularly deep breath and let it out. His lungs rattled a little. Tyler let his head rest against the mattress above him. 

“You… you remember Josh,” Matt said. Tyler brought his attention back to him. 

“Yeah,” he said after a pause. 

“Why?” The question caught him off guard a little. 

“I… don’t know.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I just… when you were here years ago, you couldn’t remember faces. You explained it to me once… everything was boiled down to eye color or hair color or voice, little specific things.”

“Josh is blue.” Matt blinked at him. “Or… he was blue. His hair.”

“Oh.”

“He…” The memories were coming back to him as he spoke, as though the words were coming out before the thoughts themselves went through his head. “He dyed it blue, for me. For me to remember him. Before… it was red. Then it was blue.” Matt nodded.

“Now it’s faded.” 

“Maybe he’ll dye it again,” Tyler said, and then he smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. He didn’t know why he smiled. Something about Josh dying his hair made him happy. Matt looked at him, staring him down, just as he’d been this whole time, as though he was trying to memorize all of Tyler’s features. It wasn’t as unsettling as Tyler expected it to be.

“Your smile is the same,” Matt said, smiling slightly as well. Tyler’s smile dropped when he said it, but Matt kept on smiling. “I’m glad you’re not dead, Tyler.” Josh’s breathing filled the room as Tyler tried to think of an adequate response to the statement. 

“Me too.” It was the truth, or at least, it felt like the truth. He didn’t really feel like it had always been that way. But he was breathing. And Josh was breathing. It was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed :) Finally, some peace for our main boys. But don't worry. There will be more hell. A second hell. A worse hell. >:o I'm evil, sorry... thanks for reading!! I really appreciate it! Leave a comment if you want, I appreciate those too :O)


	27. Stitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late/short chapter, like I said last time, graduating was a LOT of work, but now I'm out of school!!! Yay!!! Hope you enjoy the chapter!!

When Josh woke up, he had found Tyler next to him, kneeling on the ground with his head on Josh’s bed and his fingers wrapped in Josh’s hand. Questions rattled around his head faster than he could keep track of them, but one realization rose above them all; Tyler remembered him. He was kneeling there, their hands intertwined. Tyler wouldn’t be this close unless he remembered, unless he knew what he was doing. It was comforting. 

The second realization, though, was that he had no idea where he was. He couldn’t remember how he got here, to this place, to this bed. His stomach ached vaguely, and when he shifted, he could feel something tugging at his skin. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember what had happened. He wondered if this was what Tyler always felt like. He remembered wondering that a lot now that things were getting so confusing. He let his fingers tighten a little around Tyler’s hand, and Tyler opened his eyes slowly, looking up at Josh. 

He looked tired, or exhausted, as though he hadn’t slept in years, and he’d lost weight. Josh could see the way his skin hugged his cheekbones a little tighter, could feel the way his fingers were bonier now. But they way that he looked at Josh made it okay. His eyes were soft, concerned. He blinked at Josh as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, as though he couldn’t believe that they were both alive. Josh couldn’t believe it either. The stitches that he could see on Tyler’s arm brought it all back to him, the raiders, the Shadow, being torn apart by its teeth. They’d found a car, lost the car. He couldn’t remember after that. 

“Josh.” Josh blinked at him. 

“Hey.” Tyler was crying. He didn’t know why, so he just squeezed his hand a little tighter. “Where are we?” His voice wouldn’t come out like he wanted to. 

“We’re safe.” It wasn’t an answer, really, but it was all Josh needed to hear.

 

***

 

Hometown was big, and confusing. It existed in the basements of the town above it, and each room was connected by tunnels. It was like a maze. Josh wondered how long it must have taken to build a place like this. His home on the east coast was entirely different, but he found himself wondering what it looked like now. Maybe it was gone. He didn’t know if he would ever find out. 

What was more confusing, even more so than the existence of an underground community, was the fact that almost everyone there _knew_ Tyler. They knew him by name, knew his personality, knew him from _before._ Tyler had explained this to him. He’d been there before, _lived_ there before. He couldn’t remember, but everyone else could. 

“Matt says that when I got here, I had a huge crack in my skull, that I couldn’t remember anything,” he’d explained while Josh was eating chicken broth on his bed. Josh just listened, trying to make sense of it.

“So that’s why you… your memories…”

“Yeah. I must’ve… gotten hurt somehow. Or something.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah.” Tyler looked like he was still trying to make sense of it himself. He sighed. “I don’t know what I was expecting.” Josh raised his eyebrows. “I guess… I wanted it to be something that I could fix.” Josh felt a tug in his chest. 

“Maybe you still can?” Tyler looked dejected, and Josh knew that he didn’t believe it.

“Maybe.”

 

 

***

 

Matt took the stitches out of Tyler’s arm. Tyler watches as he did it, as the strings of plastic were pulled from under his skin leaving little trails of scars beneath the surface. He looked mesmerized. Josh wondered why. He wondered how Tyler had managed to take the stitches out of his ankle on his own, if they were still there, in his skin, a part of him now. He wondered exactly how many stitches were in his own body at that moment, and he wondered what kinds of scars they would leave when they were removed. 

Tyler winced, and Josh looked over to see a little trail of blood coming from one of the holes. The red reminded him of when Tyler had punched the wall in the basement so long ago when the Interrogator wouldn’t let them see each other. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that his hair was faded, almost all the way back to blonde. He would have to remember to ask Tyler what color he should dye it next. 

 

***

 

They slept in the same bed. Tyler couldn’t sleep otherwise, and Josh had no issue with it. After two nights of waking up to see Tyler sleeping in the chair in the corner of the room, he finally figured it out. Tyler was afraid of being alone. Or rather, he was afraid of being alone _again._ Josh didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he was scared of forgetting, or scared of being forgotten, but it didn’t matter. 

Now, in the mornings, Josh would wake up to see Tyler curled in on himself under the covers next to him, breathing softly. Every time Tyler woke up he would have a panicked look on his face, a familiar look of not knowing where he was, but then he would look at Josh laying there next to him, and his face would change. Sometimes he remembered Josh’s name before he remembered his own name, and he would have to ask Josh what it was, a sheepish look on his face. 

 

***

 

Tyler started working during the day while Josh had to sit around in bed, doing nothing. He’d hear storied about the things people said on border patrols, what the city looked like, how the weather was outside, above ground. Josh was jealous, but he didn’t say anything. They were alive. That was what mattered.

 

***

 

“The ocean!” Josh exclaimed one day while he was sitting in the cafeteria with Matt and Tyler. The room was fairly full, people all talking and gossiping and laughing to each other. He knew some of them by name, some of them by face. There was Lewis, who apparently was the one who found them, and Sammi, who helped Matt in the hospital wing. Then there was the girl with the scar over her eye who said good morning to the two of them every day, and the two twin boys who did nothing but stare. Josh was finally able to eat solid food again, now that his stomach could handle it. Matt looked up at him, slightly startled by the question. 

“What?” Matt said.

“The _ocean._ ” Tyler repeated after Josh, a sudden look of understanding coming over his face.

“What about it?” Matt asked, shoving more potatoes into his mouth.

“How close are we to the sea?” Matt looked a little startled by the question.

“We’re right on the shoreline.” Josh was equally startled by the answer. “It’s part of the border patrol, actually. Why?”

“I… just remembered. We were going to the sea. We… it was the whole reason that we’re this far from home, and I forgot until now.” He didn’t even know how he’d managed to forget. In his defense, a lot had been going on. Near death experiences, waking up underground, trying to figure out where he and Tyler would fit in in Hometown. 

“Oh.” Matt blinked and took a bite of his food. “I can take you to the shore, if you want?”

“Please,” Tyler said without hesitation. Josh looked at him. His eyes had gone a little glassy, and he almost looked scared. Josh wondered if he’d blanked and no one noticed. It happened sometimes, just for a few seconds at a time.

“Ty?” Josh asked quietly.

“I forgot. About the ocean, I mean. I haven’t had a nightmare in a while…” Josh didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “I want to see it.” Matt blinked a few times. 

“Can we finish lunch first?” He asked, his fork still plunged into another chunk of potato. Josh could see Tyler biting the inside of his cheek, but he nodded anyway.

 

***

 

“What’s wrong?” Josh asked. They were standing in the sand, shoes and socks left back on solid ground and pants rolled up to their ankles. Tyler was standing a few feet in front of Josh, the sea water flowing over his toes and slowly burying his feet in the sand. He hadn’t said anything for almost an hour, just stared out at the sea. Josh couldn’t tell if he was blanking or not, but after a while, there was nothing else he could think to do. The sun had long since set, and the air was getting colder. Curfew was approaching. “Ty.” 

Tyler brought his hands up to his face, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his wrists. Josh hadn’t even realized he was crying. It didn’t even seem like _Tyler_ had realized that he was crying. He sighed, his breath shaking, and shook his head. 

“Tyler.”

“ _What._ ” He sounded miserable. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” As soon as he said the words, he put his hands over his face as though he was trying to hide. Josh walked forward and wondered if he should do something. He didn’t want to startle Tyler. He put his hand lightly on his shoulder, but Tyler immediately moved away from him. 

“Did you remember something?”

“ _No.”_ He sighed, cursing under his breath. “No, I don’t… I don’t remember anything. Nothing. It’s… I wanted it to be _more._ ” Josh looked out at the ocean, at the massive expanse of blue water that went on forever. It reminded him of when he was younger and he and his sister would sit out on the dock. “I wanted it to _mean_ more.”

“You wanted answers.”

“I wanted _answers.”_ Without warning, Tyler dropped to his knees, letting the water run over his legs, soaking his pants. 

“At least… at least its better than blood and ink,” Josh said. Tyler laughed, closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

“You don’t need to be sorry. You expected it to be everything–“

“I expected it to be _something._ Not everything. I just wanted something.”

“We have Hometown, now.”

“But I don’t remember it. Not how I want to.”

“Ty, maybe– maybe this is more,” Josh paused, not knowing if he wanted to say what he was about to say. “Maybe this is more permanent than we thought.”

“It can’t be.” There was no hesitation in his voice. “It’s not. It can’t be.” He was shaking his head, but then his eyes went glassy again, and he stared out at the horizon line, unmoving. 

“Tyler.” He didn’t answer. “Ty.” Tyler didn’t move. Josh sighed, and then sat down in the water next to him, letting the waves nudge his knees and the sand creep into his pant legs. There was no use in trying to shake Tyler out of it when he got like this. It was just a fact of life, now. Josh stared at the sea, and suddenly, he was angry. 

Why couldn’t it have just given them what they wanted? Why couldn’t it have been the answer that Tyler needed to have, the cure to his memory, to his mind, to his nightmares? Why couldn’t it have been something, _anything_ helpful, rather than just a reminder that they came all this way to be left with more questions than ever. Josh wanted to hit something, but the only things he could reach were water, which was useless to hit, and sand, which would cut his knuckles, and Tyler, who he wouldn’t dream of hurting. He dug his nails into his arm and waited for Tyler’s eyes to clear.

 

***

 

At night, Tyler would run his fingers over the scars on Josh’s abdomen, tracing the lines, memorizing them to muscle memory so that he could never forget them. Sometimes, he would wake up smiling, feeling safe. Sometimes, he would wake up screaming about a girl, or eyes, or blood, or simply telling Josh to _run._ The others in Hometown weren’t so used to this yet, but each time, Josh would hold Tyler by the wrists until he remembered where he was, or at least, until he remembered who he was with. 

The ocean remained a mystery. Tyler still dreamt about it, despite how far they’d come, but there was no cure to nightmares in facing them in real life. There were more to the dreams than the ocean, and there was more to the ocean than the shore. They were safe, at least. Tyler’s eyes were clear most of the time, and Josh was beginning to work on patrols. They were safe, and Josh could only pray that it would last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! I'm going to try to update by Sunday, so stay tuned :) Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading! (Sorry it's shorter!!)


	28. Pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short-ish chapter again, I'm sorry, but I promise it's no where near over yet!

“Are you sure?” Josh asked, looking at the bright pink dye bottle that Tyler had in his hand. Tyler grinned and nodded. 

“Hometown feels pink.”

“Pink.” Tyler shrugged.

“Yeah. Pink. I don’t know why. You’re the one who put me in charge of picking colors.” Josh sighed. “Plus, you don’t usually see pink out there in the wasteland. Even the sunsets are bland nowadays.”

“That’s true,” Kara’s voice rang out from the back of the room where she was getting some bowls and brushes together. She was one of the more artistic people in Hometown, as she was the local tattoo artist, and so she was pretty much trusted with anything that involved any precision and style. This included hair dye, so it seemed. Josh sighed again. 

“Okay. Pink it is.” Kara laughed and came over to take the dye from Tyler, who was still grinning. She squeezed most of the bottle into one of her bowls and stored it around with a thick black brush. 

“I think it’s going to look great,” she said, smiling at Josh. He looked over at Tyler, and Tyler nodded, still grinning. He’d been waiting weeks for Josh to dye his hair again. The faded icy color was beginning to turn a strange shade of green, and it didn’t feel right. This was Hometown. It was clean, it was safe, and it was familiar. Josh’s hair needed to match it, or else he knew he wouldn’t remember it right. Kara walked back behind Josh’s chair and without warning, plopped a huge glob of dye right onto the top of his head. Josh made a little squeak.

“Cold!” He said, cringing a little at the feeling. Tyler patted his shoulder and went to sit down in one of the folding chairs a few feet away. 

“Yeah, it’s been underground for a few years. It gets cold at night,” Kara said.

“You can say that again,” Tyler muttered. His toes had nearly been frozen off every night they were there, and he was certain that the only reason he hadn’t died from the cold yet was because of Josh’s body heat. It seemed that he was always warm, no matter what the situation was. 

“Where’d you get your sleeve done?” Kara asked, and Tyler looked up confused before he realized the question was directed at Josh. Josh glanced down at the colorful tattoo that wound its way up his arm and smiled a little. Tyler wondered if he’d answered this question before. He couldn’t remember. Now he was curious.

“Random guy in a liquor store halfway between the west cost and Ohio did it for free because we were both drunk.”

“Really?” Tyler asked at the same time that Kara laughed. 

“Yeah,” Josh sighed, smiling. “Really. He was a cool guy. I mean, he was cool enough to set up camp in a liquor store. He did good work, though. It’s pretty faded, but that’ll happen in the wasteland.”

“I could touch it up for you, if you want?” Kara asked, globbing more hair dye onto Josh’s head. He shook his head.

“I like it how it is. Thanks, though.” She smiled and kept working, now using the brush to get the color down to the roots of Josh’s hair. 

“I did some of Tyler’s tattoos,” she said, her voice almost distant. Tyler looked up at her, intrigued. She met his gaze and nodded, smiling. “Yep. The two on your chest. Those were fun. Straight lines are always a good time.” Tyler looked down at his shirt as though he could see through the fabric to see the ink underneath. 

“Huh,” he said, unsure of what else to say. He knew that he had tattoos, but he’d never known what they meant. He wondered if it was in one of his old notebooks, but now it seemed that they were all lost, even the one that he and Josh had brought with them on their journey. He still couldn’t remember exactly how he’d lost it, and neither could Josh. “Do you, uh… do you remember what they meant?” It was worth a shot, and he was curious to say the least. Kara shook her head, and Tyler’s heart sank a little.

“Sorry. You wouldn’t tell me what they meant. But you were pretty adamant on getting them done, and getting them done soon.”

“Yeah, sounds like something I would do,” Tyler sighed, leaning against the back of the chair.

Kara kept lathering color into Josh’s hair. Once she was done, and they’d waited a good amount of time to let it set in, she made him lean over a hose in the back of the room to rinse it out. Both Josh and Tyler got free hair cuts, much needed, and by the time that Kara was done, Tyler couldn’t stop running his hands over the fresh buzz that Josh had on the sides of his head. Everything was so much softer now that they weren’t out in the wasteland, now that everything was clean and washed daily and well kept. He didn’t know he could miss something he couldn’t remember, but here he was. Josh was hunched over, drying his hair off with a towel, when Lewis walked in. He gave Tyler a smile, which Tyler returned with a little more hesitance than he wanted to. He still wasn’t used to people knowing him, recognizing him for more than he recognized them. He felt guilty, if only a little. 

“Hey, Kara. The Caravan’s back, if you want to go pick up ink or dye or anything,” Lewis said, and Josh emerged from his towel, pink hair blazing in the artificial light. Lewis looked startled, but then he smiled. “Looks good.” Josh smiled, too. 

“Yeah, I need stuff– give me one sec,” Kara said, rummaging around her cabinets. 

“What’s the Caravan?” Tyler asked; he didn’t recognize the term, but he could never trust his memory with the smaller details. 

“Traveling merchants. They come maybe once or twice a year, sell stuff, buy stuff. Trading. It’s fun. They’re colorful.” Lewis always focused in on the smallest details, but it was only ever the details that made him happy. Colors, for example, seemed to brighten his day. “Do you want to come with us?” Tyler looked over at Josh, feeling somewhat like a child asking a parent for permission, and Josh shrugged. 

“I’ll come too,” Josh said, shaking out his hair and putting the towel on the counter. “Sounds like fun.” They made their way down a few tunnels, up a few flights of stairs, until finally they emerged at the surface. There were only three exits to hometown, and each of them were guarded at all times of the day. One of them let out onto the shore, and the other two let out into the city. As soon as Lewis ushered them out the doors and past the guards, Tyler was amazed at the colors he saw. 

There were a three giant trucks, painted with murals of faces and animals and places. Josh let out a breath as soon as he saw it, and Lewis was grinning wide. 

“The Caravan,” he said, waving a hand forward. Each of the trucks had open backs, and several people from Hometown were climbing inside, taking a look at the wares that were available. Kara seemed to know exactly where she wanted to go, walking straight up to a tall dark skinned woman and clapping her on the shoulder. “Have a look around. If you see something you want, let me know; I’ll see if I can get it for you.” With that, Lewis walked up to the nearest truck and began talking to the person who was standing in front of it. They seemed friendly. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Josh said, running a hand through his still wet hair. It got tangled a little. 

“Me neither,” Tyler said. “Or… I don’t think I have.” 

“I know what you mean,” Josh said, and Tyler smiled. They took barely two steps forward before they were interrupted again. 

“Tyler?” He turned around, trying to pinpoint the person who said his name. He didn’t recognize the voice. There was someone walking towards them, a man with a confused look on his face. As soon as Tyler turned all the way to look at him, his face changed completely. “Holy shit, Tyler!” In a split second, he found himself suffocating in a hug so tight he could feel his fingertips going numb. It took most of his strength just to push the man off of him. The man looked hurt at being pushed away.

“Don’t you recognize me?” He was young, maybe even younger than Tyler, with short ashy hair and dark brown eyes. He looked tan, tall. Tyler didn’t know him in the slightest. Josh had one hand on Tyler’s shoulder, and Tyler knew without even looking that there was fire in his eyes. “Wait, T-Tyler, come on, it’s me! It’s… you don’t remember?”

“Sorry,” Tyler said, keeping his voice monotone. He felt nervous. He felt like there was something else behind those dark eyes, but he didn’t know what. 

“I… Ethan. My name is Ethan. You… you don’t remember me?”

“Sorry,” Tyler said again. Lewis appeared out of nowhere, putting a hand onto Ethan’s shoulder and pulling him a step back, but he had a friendly look on his face. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” he said, shooting a look at Tyler that clearly asked _are you okay_. 

“No, I– nothing, Lewis, I just– I know Tyler.” Lewis blinked at Ethan, and Ethan stared back. “From before. Way before.” 

“How?” Tyler asked before Lewis could say anything else. Ethan looked at Tyler, the same sad, confused look on his face. 

“We… Tyler, we were together for _years._ You, and me, and– and Ezra and Corinne– you really don’t remember?”

“No. I hurt my head, and now I don’t remember things.” He tried to keep it as blunt as possible. He really didn’t feel like explaining his whole story to someone he didn’t truly trust yet.

“You hurt… what, like amnesia?”

“Doesn’t matter. How do you know me?” 

“Yeah. Okay. Um… right after Larkstown was destroyed– oh, that… that was our community, before… well, we all set off together, but eventually, it was just you and me and some other people, Corinne, and her sister, and Ezra. We were doing great for a few years, but then we got stuck, and we got split up… I haven’t seen anyone since. Except you, now, and I– I can’t believe you’re alive.” Ethan took a step towards Tyler, and Tyler took a step away from Ethan. There was still something in his eyes that he didn’t trust. “What… what happened to you?”

“I don’t remember.” Josh still had his hand on Tyler’s shoulder, and it seemed he was still right to be cautious. Neither of them were letting their guard down. Lewis answered for Tyler. 

“We found him with a crack in his skull and brought him back here. He couldn’t remember anything, and couldn’t make new memories.”

“Still not very good at that,” Tyler interjected. 

“Then he disappeared. Now he’s back.”

“It’s a long story,” Josh sighed. 

“Shit,” Ethan said. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Sorry. I just… I thought you were dead. I really thought you were dead, and… here you are.” Tyler smiled a little at that. There were some times when he really thought he was dead, too, but here he was. It made him happy to hear it from someone else’s mouth. “Who… who are you?” The question was directed at Josh, who was probably a strange sight to see, defensively putting one hand on Tyler’s shoulder while he looked like a wet dog with pink hair at the same time. 

“Josh,” he said, bluntly, but took his hand off of Josh’s shoulder. Surprisingly, it made Tyler feel better, rather than worse. If Josh trusted Ethan, maybe it was okay. Maybe he wasn’t lying. He wasn’t good at figuring those kinds of things out, but it always seemed that Josh had a decent intuition. 

“I… would it be weird if I stayed?” Tyler’s immediate reaction was _yes,_ but he kept his mouth shut. “We used to be like brothers. I know you don’t remember, but… this is crazy for me. I thought I lost you.” Tyler didn’t want Ethan to stay. It was selfish. He knew that it was selfish. He knew that it was just him and his own problems and not wanting even more change. Before, it was fine; he worried about Josh, and Josh worried about him, and it was fine. Now there was Hometown, where so many people recognized him and he could barely remember half of their names, but at least they understood the way that his mind worked. At least they knew enough to remind him of where he was when he suddenly forgot. This was someone new. Someone who didn’t know Tyler anymore, who didn’t know the person that he was now. He didn’t want to reintroduce himself to someone who already wished he was the way he was before he forgot himself. 

“What about the Caravan?” Lewis asked. 

“They would be fine without me for a while; they’re going down the coast for a bit, then heading back up. They can come pick me up again when they come back.” Lewis looked at Tyler, then at Josh. “I mean… we have room. You’d have to carry your weight.” Tyler felt dread. He didn’t know why. Maybe he was being too quick to judge. 

“Lewis, you’re amazing.” Lewis gave him a smile, but it wasn’t the same smile that he had when he saw colors. It was almost apologetic, as though it wasn’t meant for Ethan to begin with. Tyler took a breath and tried to force himself to be more open minded about all of this. He could almost feel Josh doing the same thing, forcing himself to relax, to accept that there was no threat. “We have so much to catch up on, Ty.” The nickname felt strange coming from someone other than Josh, from a situation other than Josh comforting him for one reason or another. He didn’t say anything, though. Ethan was right. They had so much to catch up on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry for the shorter chapter- I can't promise an update by sunday because I'm doing SO much in the next week and so much is happening that is just NOT good things :/ But definitely by next next sunday? I can say that for sure. Thanks for reading!! Leave a comment if you want!


	29. Voices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry!! Updating a day late... but I'm still going!! Hope you all enjoy!

It wasn’t the ocean this time. It was impossible not to realize it, not after everything that had happened in his dreams, in his reality. The ocean wasn’t there this time, not in water or in blood or in ink. Instead, in its wake, there was a desert, and a building in the middle of it, and he was on top of the building, and everyone else was there too, no matter how many times he willed them to leave. They weren’t the problem this time though, as it soon became obvious. 

Surprisingly, Tyler finally had a name to put to the face standing in front of him, a name that wasn’t _the girl,_ or, _the other,_ or _the bones._ This time, the face was familiar; Ethan. He didn’t know why Ethan was there. Ethan shouldn’t be there, with the demons, the ghosts, the evil. Ethan smiled, and his teeth were spiders, but only for a moment. 

_“Aren’t you going to say hello?”_ Ethan said, finally, and the sound of the wind against the desert ceased. Tyler looked out and saw that the whole world had turned to cement, spotted with patches of red and black. It wasn’t the ocean. It filled him with more dread than the ocean ever had. 

“No,” Tyler tried to answer, but the bones had stolen his teeth and the girl had stolen his voice and the other smiled despite its lack of a mouth. 

_“It’s rude not to greet someone by their name,_ ” Ethan said. His smile turned into spiders again, and then back to teeth, but now covered in ink. _“For example,”_ he stepped closer to Tyler, and Tyler stepped back away from him. His heart was beating faster, and with each thud of his chest, he felt static in his ears. _“Corinne.” H_ e pointed to the girl. _“Ezra.”_ He pointed to the other. _“Anthony.”_ He pointed to the bones. _“Murderer.”_

He was inches from Tyler’s face, his eyes slowly leaching blackness that streamed down Ethan’s cheeks, dripping onto the roof of the building. There were hands holding Tyler in place, too many to only belong to Ethan’s body.

“I’m not,” Tyler said through a voiceless, toothless body, but Ethan seemed to understand him anyway. 

_“Liar.”_

“I’m not.” 

_“You are the reason they’re gone.”_

“I’m not.”

_“YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO LIVE.”_

In a moment, they were at the edge of the building, Tyler with his heels hanging over into thin air. The girl, the other, and the bones were laughing. Tyler knew it was a laugh despite the sound, despite the fact that it didn’t sound like a laugh, despite the fact that it sent a chill down his spine. 

“ _You didn’t deserve to live.”_

Ethan took a step forward, forcing Tyler more over the edge of the building, until his toes were the only things still on it. Ethan was the only thing holding him in place, the only thing keeping him alive. 

_“I will make sure I am the last thing you see.”_

Ethan put his palm on Tyler’s chest and shoved him backwards.

 

 

***

 

When he bolted upright, Josh was the first thing he saw, sitting in front of him on his bed, his dark eyes concerned. They didn’t say anything. Tyler’s breathing slowed gradually, his hands stopped shaking, he remembered where he was. Finally, when he could truly understand that it had been a dream, he leaned forward and put his head onto Josh’s shoulder. Josh sighed, rubbing Tyler’s shoulder. 

“You okay?” He asked. Tyler nodded, and realized that Josh wasn’t wearing a shirt. His skin was warm against Tyler’s forehead. “Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“The usual?” Tyler didn’t know what to say. No, no, it wasn’t the usual. It was absolutely _un_ usual. It felt wrong, unfamiliar, like something that never should have happened. The longer he was awake, the more he remembered where he was. The room was familiar with its dark walls and dusty air, and the Josh sitting in front of him had pink hair. Hometown was pink.

He remembered. Ethan had been staying at Hometown for what felt like a while, and Josh had only just begun to trust him. Tyler was, too. He didn’t want that to change. It was just a nightmare, right? It had to be just a nightmare. “Ty?” Tyler lifted his head and blinked at him. He didn’t want to tell Josh.

“Yeah. Sorry.” He sighed and pushed his hands into his eye sockets, suddenly grateful that he had teeth and a voice. It was a strange thing to be grateful for. Josh paused for a moment before rubbing Tyler’s back again and getting out of bed. 

“You have guard duty today,” he said, pulling a white tank top out of the closet and throwing it on over his head. “They give you all the fun jobs.” Tyler sighed and got out of bed. 

“Why is it a fun job?” 

“It’s more fun than cooking lunch,” Josh groaned. He threw Tyler a pair of black jeans that were frayed at the bottoms. 

“They probably give me the job because it’s repetitive and easy to do.” Josh looked over at him with one leg in his pants, balancing on one foot. He blinked at him before losing his balance and hopping around trying not to fall over. 

“Okay, true, but it’s still a fun job.” Tyler sighed and began putting his own pants on. They took turns using the tiny bathroom sink to brush their teeth and fix their hair before heading down to the cafeteria for lunch. The dream still haunted Tyler to the point that when he saw Ethan sitting at one of the tables in the cafeteria, he nearly flinched. Josh glanced at him. It was almost incredible how well Josh knew Tyler, knew when he was feeling anything other than general neutrality. There was something comforting in it. They got their breakfast, a big bowl of cold oatmeal, and went to sit down next to Ethan. Tyler lead the way. Maybe it was because he was trying to convince himself that Ethan wasn’t a threat, that Ethan in reality wasn’t Ethan in his dream, that Ethan wasn’t going to push him over the top of a building. 

“Morning,” Ethan said, lifting a mug in Tyler and Josh’s direction as they were sitting down. 

“Is that coffee?” Josh asked immediately, and Ethan laughed. 

“God, no. They just ran out of regular cups. I _wish._ ” 

“Damn,” Josh said. 

“What’s coffee?” Tyler asked. Josh took a bite of oatmeal and through a mouth full of food, he answered. 

“Makes you more awake.”

“How?”

“Um. Science.” Tyler rolled his eyes and took a bite of oatmeal. 

“You used to love coffee, Ty.” The nickname still made his skin crawl. “We used to have huge pots of it in Larkstown.” Tyler smiled, but it wasn’t genuine. He took another bite of oatmeal. “We’re both on the north entrance today,” Ethan continued. Tyler had to look up to realize that he was still talking to him. 

“We are?” 

“Yeah, Mick told us a few days ago–“ Ethan cut himself off. “Sorry, forgot about your… sorry.” He gave Tyler an apologetic look.

“It’s fine.” Tyler took another bite of his oatmeal. Ethan was a nice person. He smiled, he apologized, he did his job, but he was predictable. Maybe that was why Tyler could remember him so well, so much better than anyone else in Hometown. Or maybe it was because they’d known each other in the past. But then again, he’d known the people from Hometown in the past before, too. Maybe it was different with Ethan. He didn’t know. Ethan smiled at him, and for a moment, Tyler expected his teeth to turn into spiders. They didn’t. His teeth were just teeth. Strangely white, actually, but it didn’t matter. He had to put the nightmare out of his mind if he was going to be able to work with Ethan all day. 

Guard duty was repetitive. It was an easy job, despite being one of the most eventful. At the beginning of the day, the night shift guards would trade off their things with the day shift guards, a knife, a gun, a radio, and then the day shift guards would do their job; stand in front of the door, shoot anyone who tries to shoot you, let the peaceful ones pass by but keep other guards informed. 

Tyler and Ethan sat outside of the north door, Ethan with his legs crossed and Tyler with his knees up to his chin. On the horizon, they could see the dust storm approaching. The other guards were already alerted. All they had to do was keep an eye on it and go inside before the storm arrived. Tyler still felt like he should be running for shelter at the sight of the storm, but shelter was right behind him. There was nothing to worry about. Ethan sighed and thudded his head back against the north door. 

“You and Josh are close,” he said out of nowhere. Tyler looked over at him, then back at the storm. 

“Yeah.”

“That’s weird nowadays. People don’t get close anymore.”

“I… feel like you’ve told me that before,” Tyler said. The sentence was familiar, but it didn’t make sense that Ethan would have the same conversation with him more than once.

“I don’t think so,” he said, but then shrugged and looked out at the storm. There was a silence between them. There was no reason for Ethan to have the same conversation with Tyler more than once. He tried to put it from his mind. 

“When do you think we should go back in?” Tyler asked, watching the swirling dust in the distance. It was getting closer, that much was clear, but Tyler could never tell how fast the storms were moving. 

“I don’t really think it matters. I just kind of wanted to watch it.”

“Hm.” 

“It looks cool, don’t you think?” Tyler looked at Ethan to find him staring at him.

“I guess,” Tyler said, looking back at the storm. His instincts were still telling him to run, and to run far. “What were the others like?” 

“Who?”

“Um… I don’t remember their names.” Ethan had told him their names in the nightmare, but he’d already forgotten. “Something with a Z?” 

“Oh. Ezra?”

“And the others.”

“You mean Corinne?” Tyler could have sworn there was one more name, but he didn’t want to say anything. He couldn’t remember it anyway. 

“Yeah,” Tyler said. “Them.”

“Uh… Ezra…” Ethan’s face dropped for a moment, but then he smiled. “Ezra was quiet. He didn’t say much. You two were friends though, always sharing looks. You never talked much then, either.” Tyler didn’t want to correct him, to tell him that he _did_ talk now, but mostly to Josh more than anyone else. “And Corinne, well… she was… she was nice. Helpful. But she didn’t really talk at all, not after her sister died. Before that, she was the most talkative person we knew, but… shit happens, you know?”

“I know.” 

“Yeah.” Ethan sighed and looked at the storm. It was turning the sky dark, almost purple. “I’m glad you found Josh, though.” 

“I’m pretty sure Josh found me, actually.”

“Yeah, he told me.” Tyler smiled. 

“I don’t actually remember it. I just feel like he would have found me before I found him.” Ethan was looking at Tyler, but Tyler was looking at the storm. 

“We should probably go inside,” Ethan said, standing up. He opened the north door while Tyler was pulling himself to his feet, and when they went inside, they proceeded to sit down again, in exactly the same positions as before. Guard duty didn’t end until sundown, but the only job they had now was to make sure no one came _in_ the door. Easy enough. Tyler let his head fall back against the wall of the narrow corridor, sighing once again at how boring this job really was. He didn’t understand why Josh thought it would be fun. There was nothing going on except dust in the sky, and no one was stupid enough to go out in a dust storm. Maybe Josh just liked guns. It wouldn’t surprise Tyler. 

 

***  


It took a while for Tyler to realize that his limbs had gone numb. Instead of panic, he felt nothing. It was like he was floating, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for anything to happen. There were words floating into his mind, but he couldn’t process them right, couldn’t figure out what they meant, and there was a humming in the background of his world that was almost beautifully intriguing. 

_“Tyler.”_ He blinked at the ceiling. _“Stand up._ ” The command sounded reasonable. There was no reason to follow it, but there was also no reason _not_ to follow it, or at least, none that he could think of. Despite the lack of feeling in his body, he was moving, rising up onto wobbly legs. He didn’t know who was speaking. The voice sound foreign but still somehow comforting, and he trusted it with his life. He didn’t know why. But he trusted it. The world around him was shaking and shifting and he couldn’t see anything that was remotely standing still, but it didn’t really matter. 

There were more words floating around in his mind, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to them to understand what they were saying. The world seemed to stretch out in all directions. 

_“Open the door.”_ What door? He couldn’t see a door. He put his hands out in front of him, trying to find something to hold on to. When he blinked, it felt like hours were passing without him noticing. _“The door. Open the door.”_ His hands hit something hard, cold, and he was surprised at the feeling that flooded his nerves. _“Open the door.”_ He couldn’t remember how. There was something else he had to do, he couldn’t just push on it. And why did he have to open it? What was on the other side? _“It’s okay. Open it. Open the door.”_ It was okay. He had to open the door. 

He found the handle and twisted it. The action seemed to take all of his strength.

_“Open the door.”_ He leaned his shoulder against it and pushed.

His vision went dark, and he could feel something streaming down his cheeks, water, and little dots of feeling scattered across his face and arms. Despite the lack of sensation, his heartbeat sped up. He didn’t know why he was afraid. 

 

***

 

“Tyler!” Ethan’s voice was the next thing he remembered. It was as though time suddenly started up again– one moment, he was sitting on the ground, waiting for his guard shift to be over, and the next, he was being pulled backwards.

His eyes were burning, his _skin_ was burning, he couldn’t see anything. “Fuck, Tyler, what–“ Someone was pulling on his arm, dragging him backwards. He couldn’t see. He pressed his palms into his eyes and willed the pain to go away. There was wind, thunderous wind, and sand, and then there was nothing, the slamming of a door. Breathing. He tried to open his eyes, but more tears streamed down his cheeks. He groaned. “Don’t open your eyes. Just… fuck, Tyler, why the hell did you do that?” _Do what?_

He was being pulled once again, led down hallways and tunnels that he couldn’t see, his eyes still on fire. At one point, he heard Ethan instructing someone else to go watch the north door, that he was taking Tyler to Matt. Time passed in a blur as Tyler’s mind started functioning again, as new memories were being made and forgotten in a split second. Ethan was still dragging him forward one moment, and then the next, water was being poured over his face, his eyes held open prying fingers, until finally, the burning subsided into an ache beneath the skin. It felt like hours had passed, but the relief was instantaneous.

He sat on the examination table, drenched in water, and opened his eyes to see Ethan staring at him. Matt was at the sink, and when he turned around, he had a pitcher of water in his hands. The whole world was foggy and blurred. 

“Better, right?” Matt said. Tyler just nodded, letting Matt tip his head back and pour more water into his eyes. It burned for a moment, but the sand was being washed away. “What the hell happened?”

“We were on guard duty for the north door. There was a dust storm, so we went inside,” Ethan began explaining. The world still felt like it was speeding up and slowed down at the same time. “But then after a while Tyler just… stood up, and opened the door, and stepped out. I didn’t know what he was doing. He wasn’t listening to me.” Matt finished pouring the water over Tyler’s face. He could hear it dripping onto the floor. The sound was grounding him. 

“I blanked,” Tyler said. His own voice sounded foreign for a moment. “I’m sorry. I haven’t done it in a while. Josh is usually there to- to help me, or whatever.” Ethan was staring at him. He didn’t even have to look up to know that. “Sometimes I just forget things as they’re happening. I don’t know why, it just happens.” He didn’t feel like he owed Ethan any more explanation than that. He just wanted Josh. He wanted his eyes to stop hurting so much. Matt put a hand on his shoulder and kept it there, and it was comforting, but only a little. His memory sparked for a moment, and before he could think twice about opening his mouth, he was already speaking. “I heard a voice.” 

“What?” Ethan asked. For a moment, there was concern on his face. Tyler rubbed the back of his neck and blinked water from his lashes. 

“Someone was telling me to go outside. To open the door.” Matt and Ethan both looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was. No one sane would go outside during a dust storm. That’s how people went blind, how people _died._

“It was probably just in your head, Ty,” Ethan said. The nickname still made him uncomfortable. 

“Yeah,” Tyler said, shrugging. “Probably.” Water dripped from his clothes onto the floor. He would have to go back and change his shirt, and maybe on the way back to the north door, he would go see Josh, tell him what happened. He wanted something familiar more than anything else in that moment. He missed Josh’s pink hair, and wished that he’d been put on the same boring job as Josh was just so they could talk all day without anyone else interrupting or insisting that they _knew Tyler from before_. And Josh would have known what to do when Tyler blanked. He sighed and closed his eyes, flinching when he felt more sand scratching against his pupils. He wondered whose voice he was hearing when he blanked. He wondered why it was telling him to go outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Sorry for not updating in a while, SO much has been going on– I went to the Firefly festival, and then to Pride NYC!! It was lit!!! Hope you all understand– thanks for reading, and leave a comment if you want! I love hearing feedback! Thanks!


	30. Drown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops... sorry... few days late... my bad. Moving house, going to camp, packing, getting new tattoos... things are crazy and motivation is low. Thanks for sticking with me!

Tyler’s nightmares had started up again. Josh couldn’t remember exactly when they’d stopped, but they were back, and although Tyler didn’t wake up screaming like he used to, he still went about his life with a little less energy and a little more fear. Nevertheless, they found themselves getting into a routine at Hometown. Each day was the same general schedule; wake up, bathe, get dressed, eat, go to work, lunch, keep working, free time (depending on the day) dinner, and then sleep. Ever since Tyler stepped out into a dust storm on guard duty, he hadn’t been assigned to another shift. Maybe it was for the best, though. As much as Josh hated to admit it, Tyler’s judgement was usually fairly flawed, especially when he was blanking. There was so much room for him to get hurt, or for someone else to hurt him. It was better to have him somewhere where he wouldn’t get himself killed.

The routine was good for Tyler. He was remembering his way around, remembering where he was every morning, remembering Josh, remembering his own name. Josh hadn’t seen him so confident in his own mind in a long time, maybe since the first time they met, and even then Tyler wasn’t fully functioning. There was something incredibly calming about waking up in the morning and hearing Tyler say his name when he asked if he was awake yet. After so many mornings when Tyler couldn’t even remember where he was, it was a relief when Tyler had so much recognition in his eyes. 

Though, despite the change in his memory, Tyler was still blanking more often now, zoning out and staring off into space, or ceasing to speak mid sentence, or even just collapsing to the floor, unconscious for a split second and then wondering what all the fuss was about. There was nothing anyone could do. It wasn’t like they had the technology of the past anymore. There was no brain scan to tell them exactly what was wrong. But Tyler seemed happy where he was, where _they_ were, existing in complete contentment in a place that was safe. Josh supposed that was what really mattered. 

“What are you thinking about?” Tyler asked. They were put on the same job for once. Given, it was the most boring job anyone could ask for. They were in the cellar of an old restaurant where Hometown kept its cans, sorting through boxes of beans and meats and vegetables. They had to put them into boxes and label the lids with what was in them to make it easier on the cooks when they came over to make the meals that day. Josh looked up from a can of black beans to meet Tyler’s gaze. There were still little cuts healing around his cheeks from the dust storm, and there were seemingly permanent red spots in the whites of his eyes. Josh spun the permanent marker around his finger and wrote _blk beans_ on the lid, putting it into a box of identical cans. He hadn’t realized that he’d stopped sorting. 

“I dunno. Beans.”

“Beans?”

“No. I don’t know.” Tyler breathed out a laugh and wrote _ass vegetables_ on his can. Josh blinked at the label, looking away and looking back to make sure he didn’t read it wrong. Then he took a breath.

“ _Ass_ vegetables?” He asked, holding in laughter. Tyler raised an eyebrow and looked down at the can, seemingly not understanding what Josh was referring to.

“It’s…oh. I… it’s supposed to be _assorted_.” 

“You can’t just abbreviate _assorted_ to _ass_.” Tyler continued staring at the can and sighed.

“You couldn’t have pointed that out sooner?”

“Oh my god, how many did you label?” Josh stood up and walked over to where Tyler was sitting crosslegged. Next to him was an entire box, full to the top, of _ass vegetables._ He couldn’t help but to burst out laughing. 

“Look, I didn’t think about it, okay?” Josh continued laughing, and Tyler rolled his eyes, smiling, and punched Josh in the knee. “They’ll get what it means! Shut up!” Josh wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and shook his head. 

“ _Ass_ vegetables,” he whispered to himself, giggling like a child. He wiped his eyes again and walked back to where he had been sitting before.

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Tyler said, looking at the can in his hand. He groaned and wrote _orted_ after _ass_ in a bad attempt to fix his vulgarity, but the damage was done. They were stuck with a crate of ass vegetables. Josh laughed again, unable to hold himself back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, receiving a death glare from Tyler. “It’s just really funny.” Tyler rolled his eyes and continued labeling cans, this time without his original abbreviation. 

“This is going to be my legacy. The ass vegetable guy. God damn it,” Tyler said, dropping the can into the box. 

“Maybe you should start a different box, make people think that ass vegetables and assorted vegetables are two different things,” Josh suggested, labeling a can of pinto beans. 

“But they come with the same labels.”

“There’s always room for doubt in anyone’s mind, Ty.” Tyler looked at the can in his hand, then back up at Josh. 

“You’re an idiot,” he said, dropping the can into a new box. Josh laughed.

“What would an ass vegetable even taste like?” He muttered to himself, pulling another can out of the wooden crate. He had to stop himself from writing _beans_ on it like every other can. This one wasn’t beans.

“Why would you even want to know?” When Josh didn’t answer, Tyler looked over at him. 

“Dude,” Josh said slowly.

“What?”

“ _Peaches._ ” 

“Is that a fruit?”

“You don’t know what peaches are?” Tyler shrugged, and Josh was astonished. “I’m opening these right now. You’re trying the peaches.”

“Josh–“

“It’s fine, no one will miss them–“ He popped the lid off by the pull tab, yanking it upwards.

“Josh!” Josh looked up at Tyler, the lid of the can in his hand. “You’re bleeding.” Josh looked down at his hand. There was a cut along his palm that stretched onto his fingers, slowly dripping blood onto the flood. He hadn’t even felt it. 

“Oh.” He scratched his head with the other hand. “Huh.” 

“ _Josh._ ” Tyler sounded more exasperated than worried. The cut wasn’t deep. He groaned. He was just trying to be funny, but now he felt like an idiot, and he’d have to walk all the way to the infirmary. 

“It’s fine. Sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s not deep. Here,” he said, handing the can of peaches to Tyler. “Eat these. I should go see Matt.” 

“Oh… okay?” Josh started walking towards the door of the cellar, but then stopped and turned back to look at Tyler. Another drop of blood fell to the floor, and it reminded Josh of hair dye. “What?”

“I don’t want to leave you here alone.” Tyler was silent. Josh knew what he wanted to say, that he would be fine, that nothing would happen while Josh was gone, but they both understood the reality of the situation. 

“Eliza is upstairs somewhere in the kitchen. I’ll stay with her until you get back.” Josh nodded as Tyler stood up, and Tyler smiled at him. It comforted him. For some reason, he was afraid that Tyler was mad at him now, but he didn’t know why. They walked up to the kitchen and Tyler greeted Eliza with a smile. They'd worked together a few times in the kitchen, and Josh was happy to see that Tyler was remembering her well enough. Once he knew Tyler was fine to stay there for a bit, he headed off into the tunnels, finding his way back to the infirmary. He knew he was going to feel so dumb explaining this to Matt. _Tyler and I were joking about asses and then I tried to open a can of peaches and sliced my palm open._ Perfect. 

Matt was, as per usual, the most understanding person Josh had ever met. Despite his embarrassment about managing to injury himself on _can_ duty, Matt assured him that he’d seen stupider injuries in his time. 

“One time, this guy Damien. who left a while back, he jumped off of the top bunk in his bed and broke his leg because he landed wrong.”

“Ouch,” Josh said as Matt dabbed at his hand with a cotton swab.

“Oh, sorry. Did that hurt?”

“N-no, I meant… ouch, as a reaction to that story–“ he could feel himself blushing.

“Oh! I get you.” Josh watched him as he got the blood out of the cut. He turned Josh’s hand a little, trying to see how deep it was. “I don’t think you need stitches. I want to give you a good bandage, though. Things get infected so easily these days.” Matt walked over to the cabinets in the corner, rummaging around some of the shelves. “You know, you’re actually not even the first person to get cut by a can. I mean, obviously. But I mean, even a couple weeks ago Ryan dropped a can on her toe and lost the nail.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah, it was gnarly. Open your fingers up?” Josh spread his hand wide and Matt sprayed something into the palm of his hand that made his skin burn. He hissed, pulling his hand away. “Hurts worse if you’re expecting it,” Matt explained.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Josh muttered. Matt shrugged, smiling. Josh put his hand out again. This time, Matt put a bigger bandage over the cut on his palm and small one over the cut on his finger. He hesitated to take his hand away. 

“You, um…” He cleared his throat. “You didn’t leave Tyler alone, right?”

“No, I left him with Eliza, in the kitchen.” 

“Okay.” Matt nodded. “Good.” Josh was confused. Matt started walking over to the trash can to throw out the wrappers from the bandages.

“Why do you–“

“I need to tell you something,” he said suddenly, turning back around. One half of a bandage fluttered to the floor where it nearly blended in with the tiles. Josh felt his heart beat a little faster.

“Um… what?” Matt ran a hand through his hair. 

“I should have told you this a long time ago, but I didn’t think it would help things, but now… I think you deserve to know. And I think Tyler deserves to remember.”

“Matt, _what?_ ” Josh was nervous. Matt could tell him anything, anything at all. Answers. Answers about Tyler. He was terrified and excited at the same time. 

“Um… fuck. I don’t know how to put this so I’m just going to say it.”

“Okay.”

“Tyler’s tried to kill himself before.” Josh didn’t know how to react. He felt like he missed a second of life, and now time was just resuming again from a pause. 

“Oh,” he said, unsure of what else to say.

“A few times.” Josh blinked. “A lot of times.” Josh thought back to the times when he would sit on the floor of his crooked house with a gun in his hand and think, just _think_ about what it might be like if he just died right then, but he’d never done it. He could never find a good enough reason, a good enough excuse. He didn’t want to think about Tyler’s reason.

“I don’t…”

“When he first came here, he was in bad shape. He was unconscious for days, and when he finally woke up, he wasn’t really… _there._ He couldn’t remember anything. And then after a while, he got better. Not _better_ , but better. And then he got worse. He would blank, but worse than now. He would go so far out of his own mind we couldn’t get him back for days. And after a while, every single time he was alone for more than a second, he would find a way to get himself out of Hometown and out to the ocean and he would just… fall in. And drown. And one of us would find him and pull him out before it was too late.” 

Josh’s ears were ringing a little. This was the answer. This was the answer, and he hated it with every fiber of his being. It made sense, in some sick way. Tyler’s nightmares, always about the ocean, always about wanting to get away from it but being drawn to it at the same time. This whole journey was bringing Tyler back to the place where he nearly died, where he _tried_ to die. 

“I know it’s a lot. And… and I know I should have told you sooner, when you and Tyler were asking about the ocean, when he didn’t… _feel_ anything when he went out there. I just didn’t know how to say it. I wanted him to be happy, to forget it.”

“We’re not gonna tell him,” Josh said. Matt looked at Josh with puzzled shock. Josh just shook his head. “We can’t tell him. If we tell him, I feel like he might just… he might remember too much. He might do it again, now that we’re here, if he knows what he did.” Matt nodded, his eyes locked with Josh’s. 

“Okay. I’m not going to question you. You know him better than any of us.” Maybe he was being selfish. Maybe he was being selfish on Tyler’s behalf in ways that he knew Tyler would never be selfish for himself. There were things that he didn’t have to relive, things that he shouldn’t have to remember. Josh would do anything to forget the sorrow he once had buried in his chest. He would do anything to keep Tyler happy, to keep him safe. 

“Thanks,” Josh said quietly. He flexed his fingers, testing out the bandage absentmindedly. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah,” Matt said. Josh sighed and put his palms against his eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s just a lot,” Josh said. “It’s a lot to think about.”

“Yeah.” 

“Who else knows?” Josh asked. 

“Um… Lewis. And a girl, Jane, who isn’t here anymore.”

“Okay.”

“And Lewis won’t tell.”

“Okay.”

They both stayed silent for a while, Josh staring down at his newly bandaged hand and Matt staring at Josh, both waiting for some cue to begin living life again, to begin pretending that nothing had changed, pretending that Josh didn’t know what he knew, pretending that Matt had no secrets to keep. Pretending that Tyler hadn’t tried to kill himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) things are getting interesting now, huh? Hope you enjoyed the chapter– I'm going to camp for the next three weeks, and though it's writing camp, I don't know how much of this fic i'm going to be able to write and work on. So, hopefully, new chapter in one or two weeks, but don't get super worried if I don't update until the beginning of August. I'll keep you guys posted! Leave a comment if you wish!


	31. Salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Uh. I guess... I'm sorry. I promised an update in, what, august? I'm so sorry. A lot has happened. I moved to college! That's a semi-decent reason, right? Anyway, here's a chapter. This fic isn't far from finished, maybe a few more chapters at most. Get excited? Sorry.

“Do you know what _Joshua_ means?”

“Biblical. _Savior_. Or _salvation_.” The words left his mouth before he knew where they were coming from. Ethan smirked at him, his eyes dark, confusing. Confused. Tyler was confused. Ethan had his elbow against his throat, pinning him back against the wall, a knife in his hand with the tip against Tyler’s chest. He could feel the prick of the blade through his shirt. He didn’t remember how he got there.

“Oh,” Ethan said, something like bloodlust in his eyes. “Smart. Where’d you learn that?”

“I don’t remember.” It was the truth. 

“Don’t you?” Ethan pushed his elbow into Tyler’s neck, blocking off even more of his airway. He couldn’t push the words out of his mouth, so he just shook his head. “Pity.” Ethan brought his face right up to Tyler’s, close enough that he could feel the hot breath on his skin. “You know what else is a pity?” Tyler shook his head again. “ _Joshua_ isn’t here now.” 

Tyler’s hands were tingling. He felt the little tremors that went down to his fingers, the same tremors that made his body stand still, like he was frozen, like he wasn’t even alive. Ethan looked alive. Ethan looked more than alive. His veins stood out against his skin like even his blood was trying to get away from him. 

“Do you know what _Tyler_ means, Tyler?” Tyler shook his head again. Ethan let out a laugh that sounded like it never should have existed. He pressed Tyler even further into the wall and put his mouth to his ear and whispered, “It doesn’t mean anything.” Tyler could feel the cold cement against his back, the chill seeping through his shirt. Ethan let up a bit on Tyler’s throat and stepped back a bit. “It was someone’s job, a tile maker, a tiler, if you will, and someone decided that it would be his surname, and time goes by, the surname becomes a first name, and now here you are. Tyler. Nothing special.”

Ethan tapped the tip of the blade against Tyler’s chest. It sent a chill through Tyler’s bones, made him shudder, made Ethan smile, and Tyler expected his teeth to be pointed, to be sharpened, to be black or falling out or covered in blood, but they weren’t. They were just teeth. Smiling.

“Tell me, Tyler,” Ethan continued. “How does someone so insignificant make so many significant choices?” Ethan stared at Tyler, and Tyler stared back. “ _Tell me!_ ” The shout echoed against the walls. Tyler closed his eyes, willing himself to disappear, willing Ethan to disappear. “Oh, but you won’t remember. You never remember. You can’t tell me anything.” 

He tapped the knife against Tyler’s chest again.

“He won’t believe you, you know. Never.” Tyler opened his eyes. “Your _salvation._ _Joshua._ ” Ethan smiled again. “Dream after dream after memory after memory after him, savior, salvation… always forgotten. The dead don’t remember. Neither do you.”

“Wake up,” Tyler whispered.

“What was that?”

“Wake up, wake up, wake up–“

“He won’t believe you.”

“Wake up, wake up–“

“He won’t believe you.”

“Wake _up–“_

“He won’t believe you, he won’t believe you, he _won’t believe you!_ ” Ethan was screaming, his face nearly touching Tyler’s. “ _NEVER, NEVER NEVER! He won’t believe you! Never!”_

“STOP IT!”

“ _NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER_ –“

Tyler screamed.

 

 

 

***

 

 

“It’s okay, Ty. You’re okay.” Josh was holding him, holding him against his chest. He was warm, familiar. “Tyler, stop it. You’re okay.” _Stop what?_ Josh ran a hand through Tyler’s hair, squeezing him a little tighter. “Sh.” 

“Never, never, never–“ The words were spilling out of Tyler’s mouth and he couldn’t stop them, he couldn't stop. There were tears on his cheeks, on Josh’s shirt, and his hands were shaking hard. His whole body was shaking hard. 

“Ty. It’s okay. It’s me, it’s Josh.” _Savior. Salvation._ “It’s okay.” _Savior._ “There you go.” _Salvation._ Tyler took a breath. Josh’s shirt was balled up in his fist. He forced his fingers to relax. “Hey.” Tyler took another breath. “You good?” He sat up, pushing himself apart from Josh, forcing himself to keep breathing, to keep living. 

“You won’t believe me.” That wasn’t what he meant to say. He meant to say _yes_. He meant to say _I’m ok._ He meant to say _what’s going on. What time is it. What day is it._

“What?”

“I… I’m fine.”

“Won’t believe you about what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ty–“

“I don’t remember.”

“Tyler.” He just shook his head. “I’ll believe you. Hey.” Josh put his hands against Tyler’s cheeks, pulling his face up to meet his eyes. In the dark, his irises looked almost black, but they weren’t scary. They were comforting. Safe. “I’ll believe you.”

_Savior._

Tyler touched Josh’s fingers with his own and closed his eyes. _Salvation._ “I’m ok.” He didn’t have to be looking at Josh to know he was being stared at. He could feel Josh’s worry in the air they were breathing. Josh sighed.

“What did you dream about?” _He won’t believe you._

“The ocean.” That wasn’t what he meant to say. He meant to say _I don’t remember. I’m afraid. I don’t want to go back to sleep._ He didn’t mean to lie. “No. Not the ocean.” He opened his eyes. Josh looked confused. Tyler was confused too. “I don’t know.” He didn’t mean to lie.

“Tyler–“

“I don’t remember.” He watched Josh’s face, watched his expression. _He won’t believe you_. _Never._ The words were echoing in his head, but he couldn’t place them, couldn’t remember who said them, couldn’t remember why he felt so much fear right at that moment, fear that Josh wouldn’t trust him ever again. 

“Okay,” Josh said, nodding. “Okay. It’s okay.” 

The world was finally beginning to feel real. Concrete. Like it wasn’t just fading into the background. With it came all the fear and anxiety that came with sleep, only in life, it was harder. It had an edge, a bite, a consequence. He remembered where they were. He remembered his life.

Josh pulled Tyler into his chest again, letting Tyler listen to his heartbeat, listen to his breathing, to know he was real. He was real. This was real. 

“Do you trust me?” Tyler asked. 

“Of course.” Josh’s voice seemed to echo in the cavern of his own ribs, trapped somewhere in his body. Tyler wondered if his voice would echo. He wondered if it would just sink into his bones and wallow there like a mourner at a funeral. He expected Josh to say something more. Maybe to ask if he was okay again, to reassure him even more, to hug him a little closer. He didn’t. It was enough. Josh knew it was enough. 

_He won’t believe you._ The voice still echoed through Tyler’s head.

“Do you trust Ethan?” The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. It felt like he wasn’t in control of his own voice. Josh hesitated. 

“I’m not sure.” There was a silence. “Did you dream about him?”

“I don’t remember.” Josh sighed.

“Do you trust Ethan?” Tyler didn’t answer. There was no reason for him not to trust Ethan. Despite that, he still expected the worst from him, expected him to turn into some demon, into a monster, into something that would kill him without missing a beat. He never did, though. He helped. He got Tyler safe, kept an eye on him, smiled when he talked. Something in his heart said _no, I don’t trust him,_ and something else, maybe not quite all the way in his heart, said, _he won’t believe you._

“Tyler?”

“I’m not sure.” Josh sighed again. They sat in silence for a while, Tyler leaning against Josh, Josh leaning against the wall, both of them quiet. After a while, Josh started to snore in the strange way that he did, and Tyler wriggled out of his arms. 

His bare feet touched the freezing cement ground, making the hair on his neck stand up. Silently, carefully, he got out of bed, walked down the hall to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. The single light above the mirror made his face look shrunken, like a skeleton was staring back at him.

There were tiny scars on his face, on his neck, on his shoulders. Tattoos stood out on his pale skin, depicting things with meanings he didn’t remember anymore, symbols and lines that were nothing but ink under his skin now. He stared at his reflection, at his messy hair and the stubble on his chin and the way his cheekbones jutted out from under his eyes. He felt unnatural. He felt unreal. 

He wondered if he was still dreaming.

He wondered if he was ever dreaming at all.

His reflection stared back at him with as much fury as he felt in his heart, but he didn’t know what he was angry at. Not Josh, of course. Not himself, he didn’t think. Not the world. Not God. Not life. But there was something lurking in him, just under his body, just behind his bones, that made him furious. He wanted to shatter the mirror, to break his fist doing it, or maybe his skull. Maybe it was the way he looked, tiny, standing in a dirty bathroom in nothing but boxers, or the way he felt, unnatural, unreal, or the way he wanted to feel, alive. Maybe it was the way Josh looked at him when he woke up, pitiful, or maybe it was the way he looked at the world, pitiful. 

He didn’t break the mirror. He washed his hands. He imagined black water straining down the holes in the sink. He didn’t break the mirror, and he shook the water off of his hands, and he walked back to his room, his feet slapping against the ground. He didn’t break the mirror, and he climbed back into bed, and pressed his freezing feet against Josh’s calves, and he prayed that just for once, he would fall asleep when he closed his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed? Leave a comment if you like. Sorry for the long break. Thanks for reading :)


	32. Update!

Ok y’all look I know it’s been a while but LISTEN I finally figured out how I wanna end this thing so there are five chapters left strap in it’s gonna be a ride first part will be posted at least by the end of March !!! 

 

Sorry for for being a butt and not posting but I promised I’d finish this fic and I’m not going back on that promise! 


	33. Walk With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look. I know it's a month later than I said I would post this. I'm sorry. Feel free to be bitter. College is hard, yo. Enjoy :)

“Do you trust Ethan?” It was the second time Tyler had asked that question in one day, and the eighth time that week. Ethan had started coming to find them whenever he had free time, or rather, he had started coming to find Tyler. Josh just happened to be part of the deal when one wanted to interact with Tyler in any way, and Ethan never failed to look annoyed whenever he saw the two of them together. Josh was well aware of the fact that Ethan wanted some time alone with Tyler. It was because of this that Josh’s answer to Tyler’s question had solidified as time passed. 

“No,” he said curtly. Tyler just looked at him for a moment, then looked down at his hands.

“I’ve asked that before,” he said, more of a statement than a question. 

“Yeah,” Josh said. “A lot.” 

“Hm.” He paused. “I guess I don’t trust him either. I just don’t…” He took a moment to find his words. “I just don’t know why.” He picked at his fingernails. He’d bitten them short, but there was still dust stuck in his skin like it was painted there. There was a limit to how clean someone could get in the wasteland. 

“Well, he’s creepy, for starters.”

“But that’s not it, though. Creepy people are just people. Ethan is in my dreams.” Tyler stood up from the bed and walked to the little bathroom in the corner. He turned the water on, running his hands under the cold tap for only a second before turning it back off. He kept picking at his nails. Josh stayed sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s like he hates me.”

“ _Hates_ you?” Josh asked, surprised. Sure, Ethan was weird, but he never tried to avoid Tyler or pick fights with him.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Tyler ran the tap again. “He hates me in my dreams.” He scrubbed at his hands for a moment before turning the water off again and looking in the mirror. He looked tired. He always looked tired, now that the nightmares were worse again. Josh sighed.

“Okay, so let’s say he hates you. Why?” Tyler kept staring into his own eyes in the mirror. “You’re a good person, Tyler.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He started picking at his fingernails again.

“What do you mean, maybe?”

“I just…” He turned the water on again. “What if I’m not?” He scrubbed at his fingers. “What if I did something, and I just forgot?” Josh turned his body more to face Tyler.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. What if I… I don’t know.” He was holding his breath. “What if I was a bad person? What if I still am?”

“You’re not–“

“But what if? You don’t know, and I don’t know,” he muttered, now scrubbing his hands with a bit too much force. Josh stood up from the bed and walked over to Tyler, silently turning off the water. One of Tyler’s fingernails was bleeding sluggishly. 

“I know you’re not a bad person _now_.” Josh took his hands into his own, taking a towel from the side of the sink and drying them off. The fingernail kept bleeding. Tyler was staring at it. “I don’t care what you were like before. People change. I’ve changed.” He dabbed the towel on Tyler’s finger as the bleeding slowed. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“It might matter to Ethan.” 

“Don’t worry about him. We’ll figure it out. Why don’t we just ask him about it?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“He’s never done anything violent, right?”

“Not that I remember,” Tyler said, and Josh couldn’t help but smile. To tell the truth, Josh wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but they didn’t really have another option. They couldn’t keep dancing around Ethan, and it didn’t seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon, even if the Caravan came back. Besides, if they were careful, and if Josh was there with them, it couldn’t go too terribly wrong. Maybe a fight, some punches thrown. Josh had sized Ethan up right from the first moment they met, and he was pretty confident he could take him. 

“We’ll just have to make sure we have control on the conversation, you know? Make sure we notice if he starts getting angry or something.”

“Yeah,” Tyler said. He sounded wary, but if he had any concerns, he didn’t voice them. They would be fine. They’d made it through worse than a conversation before. They would be fine. 

 

 

***

 

 

It wasn’t long before Ethan came around looking for Tyler again. This time, Josh was with him, as always. They were organizing the freezers, making sure the chicken didn’t have too much freezer burn or that the peas weren’t dried out or opened. Josh would pull out a pile of food at a time and he and Tyler would sit on the floor and check it, re-bagging it if they needed to or putting it into a different freezer if they needed to. The kitchen’s storage room had three huge freezers and three huge fridges, as it was in the basement of an old diner. Josh still couldn’t believe that anyone could ever have so much food to fill all of them. 

When Ethan showed up, he knocked on the doorway even though the door was open, announcing his presence. He stood for a moment, glancing at Tyler, but his gaze lingered on Josh. Josh squared his jaw and turned back to his task, passing a bag of frozen corn to Tyler. 

“Hey,” he said bluntly, not bothering to look back up at him. He watched as Tyler looked up at him and smiled slightly. 

“Hey,” Ethan said back. He stood for a moment longer, as though he was waiting for something, before coming in. “Finished laundry early. Thought you might need some help.” Josh half wanted to turn him away, to tell him to leave them alone, to leave Tyler alone. He didn’t. Instead, he nodded, faking a smile, and gestured to the freezer vaguely with his hand.

“Could you grab the split cans out of there and try to loosen up the stuff inside them? We have to put them into bags.” Josh assumed Ethan nodded or something, because he walked to the fridge and took a few cans out, sitting down to pry them open. Josh looked up to find Tyler looking back at him, a look in his eye that said he didn’t know what to do. Josh sighed, but he didn’t know where to start. It had only been a day since he and Tyler decided to talk to Ethan about his weird behavior, but in those hours, he still hadn’t figured out how to actually _start_ the conversation.

“Here,” Ethan said, handing Josh a can. It was split at the side, but Ethan had loosened the hunk of frozen peas enough for it to slide out when Josh turned it upside down over a bag. 

“Thanks,” Josh said. Tyler looked uncomfortable. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey, uh, Ethan,” Tyler said suddenly, straightening his back. Ethan looked up at him. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah, what’s up Ty?” Josh still hated that Ethan called him Ty. 

“Well, I’ve been having these dreams, and I– I think they might be about… you know, before.” Tyler was being vague on purpose, but he had a good poker face, Josh would give him that.

“What about?” Ethan asked, moving onto the next can. 

“I don’t know, really. It’s just… memories. I think. Like, in one of them, I dreamt about you and this other boy–“

“Ezra, probably. You liked him,” Ethan said. His voice was smiling, but his face wasn’t. 

“Yeah, and it– it was like… sunset? I think. Lots of colors. And there was this big fire.” Ethan scratched his head for a moment.

“I don’t remember any big fire,” he said after a pause. 

“Well, I guess that’s my point. Maybe could you tell me a little more about who I was? Before all this? Like, who was I when you knew me?” Ethan paused. Josh couldn’t read his face. Eventually, he sighed. 

“Yeah, I mean, there was a lot. We started off as a bigger group, but eventually it was just the six of us, you, me, Corinne and Tara, and Ezra.”

“That’s only five,” Josh said. 

“Is it?” Ethan asked. He counted on his fingers. “Oh. Right.” Josh handed a bag of chicken breasts to Tyler. “Tara and Corinne were sisters. Tara was in love with you, you know.” 

“Really?” Tyler asked. Ethan nodded. “What was she like?” 

“Real nice, mature. She was a little older than you, but you never acted your age anyway. But she got real quiet after Corinne died. Never talked again.” Tyler looked down at the bag of chicken breasts. 

“Oh,” he said quietly. Ethan shook his head.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a downer,” he said. Tyler shrugged and put the chicken breasts into the freezer in front of him. 

“Was I in love with Tara?” Tyler asked. He and Ethan shared a look for a moment. Tyler looked away first. 

“No, not really. You didn’t love anyone.” Josh looked up from his frozen corn. He wasn’t sure he’d heard Ethan right at first, but Tyler looked up at him with an equally confused look.

“What?” Josh asked, looking over at Ethan. For a moment, he thought he saw Ethan glare at him, but it was gone in a flash. 

“I just mean you weren’t really interested in dating,” he responded, avoiding Josh’s gaze. 

“Oh,” Tyler said, his voice uncertain. He and Josh shared another look. When Josh looked back at Ethan, Ethan rolled his eyes.

“Why do you guys keep looking at each other like that?” Josh looked at Tyler again. “That! Like that! Do I have something in my teeth?” It was supposed to be a joke, but Ethan’s face never matched his voice, and he looked far too serious. Josh sighed. 

“Look, Ethan…” Josh said, putting down the corn. “You’re kinda freaking us out.” Ethan just stared at him, his eyes unreadable. “You just make these comments and follow Tyler around and, I know it might not be your fault, but ever since you showed up Tyler’s been having nightmares about you–“

“His messed up head isn’t my problem–“ Ethan interrupted, raising his voice and standing up. Josh stood with him.

“Like that, right there, you just flip on a dime!” They stared each other down for longer than was probably necessary.

“You’re the one getting pissed all of a sudden. I’m just defending myself.” His voice was back to being cold again. Josh took a breath. 

“I’m not trying to start a fight. You just need to stop following Tyler around.”

“He’s my friend.”

“You _were_ my friend,” Tyler said. Josh hadn’t noticed, but he’d stood up, and though he was holding himself a little farther away from Ethan than seemed natural, but he didn’t look nervous. Ethan looked at him like he had grown a second head. 

“Tyler–“

“I’m sorry, but I’m different now.” Ethan opened his mouth, then closed it, rethinking whatever he was about to say. 

“I make you uncomfortable,” he said finally. 

“No, no– well, kind of. You just– you follow me around too much. I’m not used to talking to people. And the way you talk to me, I feel like I should know something that I don’t, like I’ve forgotten something important but you won’t tell me what it is.”

“We just need space–“ Josh tried to get back into the conversation, but Ethan interrupted him.

“We?”

“Yes. We,” Tyler said. 

“Last I checked, you were your own person.”

“Last you checked, I could remember me name every day.”

“Oh, boo hoo,” Ethan said, his voice turning from cold to frozen. Tyler took a half step back, startled. “So what, I’m just supposed to fuck off? Leave?”

“Ethan, you’re taking this too hard–“ Josh said, but once again, Ethan cut him off. 

“Stay the hell out of this. This doesn’t involve you.” Ethan took a step toward Tyler, but Josh put himself between them. “Fuck. Fuck you. He deserves everything that’s happened to him.” Josh didn’t back down. He didn’t know what Ethan was talking about, but at this point, he didn’t want to find out. 

“I think you should go.” He and Ethan locked eyes, neither backing down. “Go,” Josh repeated. After another moment, Ethan finally stepped back. He clenched his jaw and said nothing as he turned and left the store room.

 

***

 

Tyler hadn’t dared to say anything since Ethan had left. His mind was reeling. Out of any outcome to that conversation he had imagined, he certainly hadn’t imagined that. Josh had stayed standing, staring at the door, for at least a few minutes after Ethan left, and Tyler didn’t know what to say. Finally, Josh let out a tense breath and turned to look at Tyler. 

“What the fuck,” he said, more of a statement than a question. Tyler just nodded. “That was insane. He’s insane. I thought he was gonna attack me for a minute there.” Tyler nodded again. Josh stepped toward him, putting a hand on the side of his arm. “Are you okay?” Another nod. Josh sighed. “I’m sorry. I know this was my idea, and that… that just didn’t go how I thought it would, and now I think I’m just more stressed than before–“

Josh was cut off once again, this time not by Ethan but rather by Ethan’s gun. Blood spattered across Tyler’s face from a hole in Josh’s shoulder, and Josh fell forward with the force of the shot. Tyler looked up, frozen where he stood, blinking blood from his eyes. Ethan stood in the door with a gun trained on him. It had a silencer on the front.

He was smiling. 

Josh was beginning to pick himself up off the floor, but he stopped when he looked at Ethan, who was still pointing the gun at Tyler.

“Stay,” Ethan said, “Or he dies here.” Josh stopped moving. “Good.” Ethan walked forward, slowly, but when he got to Josh, he stopped. “Fuck you,” he said, and kicked him in the head. Josh slumped to the ground. Tyler lurched forward, but he stopped when Ethan took the safety off of the gun with a click that seemed to echo in the room. “Stay,” he said again, this time to Tyler. “And finally we’re alone,” Ethan said. Tyler glanced down at Josh. “I didn’t want this to be so rushed, but it seems you two don’t trust me anymore.”

“Apparently with good reason,” Tyler said. 

“Shut up.” Tyler closed his mouth. “We’re gonna take a little walk now.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I shoot Josh between the eyes right now, and we take a walk after that.” Tyler stared at him. His eyes were the same as before. He was too normal. Tyler hated it. He was praying this was a nightmare. He was praying he’d wake up soon. “What’ll it be?” When Tyler didn’t answer, he aimed the gun at Josh. 

“Fine! Fine. Don’t shoot him.” Ethan pointed the gun back at Tyler and smiled. 

“No promises,” Ethan said, but gestured for Tyler to step over Josh and move toward the door. Tyler took one last look at Josh, still bleeding on the floor, before following the instruction he was given. He pinched the back of his hand while he was walking in some attempt to wake himself up. It stung. Ethan smiled wider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEET sorry for the cliffhanger but I'm done with freshman year in like two weeks so I think I'll finish this up by the end of the summer!! Three more chapters to go ;)


	34. uhhhhhhhhhhhHHPDATE!

Hi hello yes its me and im not dead

wow

been a while

stay tuned 

update tonight

||-//


	35. Forget This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told ya I'd update tonight.

They walked in silence. Ethan held the gun to the back of Tyler’s head, the cold metal sending shivers down his spine every time Ethan adjusted his grip. He had them walking through the city, winding around buildings, doubling back, taking back roads paved in cobblestones. Tyler tried to remember the turns they were taking, but it became too much. He wondered where Josh was. He wondered if Josh was alive. The bullet only went through his shoulder, he reminded himself. But if no one found him in time, it wasn’t hard to bleed out from a bullet wound. 

Behind him, Ethan’s breathing was ragged, not with fear, but with excitement, almost as though he couldn’t contain himself. Every so often, he would laugh, and the sound would echo off of the buildings like bird calls. When Ethan wanted Tyler to turn one way or another, he would press the gun a little harder against his skull, nudging Tyler’s head in the direction he wanted to go. To his own horror, Tyler couldn’t remember whether or not Ethan had taken the safety off of the gun or not before they left. Then again, even if he knew, would he be willing to risk running? 

Ethan put pressure on the gun again, nudging Tyler to the right. It was the last of many, many winding turns. In front of them lay a crumbling building, clearly one that was subject to any number of bombings or firefights. There were windows covering every inch of the outside, and bullet holes covering every inch of the windows. Entire sections of the walls were missing. Only half of the domed roof was still intact. On the front, the words “Public Library” were carved into stone, though some of the letters were near indistinguishable. As they approached the building, Ethan’s breathing only became more excited. Tyler hadn’t dared turn around to look at him the whole time they were walking, but he could only assume Ethan was smiling. 

He wondered how this all happened, how this had become his life. He wondered if Josh would die, bleeding out because he’d made an enemy in a life he didn’t remember. He wondered what he had done to deserve this. He wondered if he _did,_ in fact, deserve this. 

They ascended the stairs. Tyler tripped over a chunk of stone, presumable that had fallen from the walls of the building. Ethan jammed the gun against his head even harder. 

“Open the door,” he said, and Tyler could practically _feel_ the joy he felt in saying it. He did as he was told. The door creaked as it opened, then fell from its rusted hinges entirely, clattering down the stairs to Ethan and Tyler’s left. Tyler just stared at it where it came to a rest. Ethan seemed unfazed. He pushed Tyler’s head with the gun, urging him forward.

The inside of the library matched its exterior, falling apart, with books scattered across the floors, bookshelves toppled over, holes punched through the hardwood. Tyler heard rats scuttling away as they stepped inside, or at least, he hoped they were rats. Dying at the hands of a Shadow was still somehow scarier than his current situation. 

“Keep. _Walking,_ ” Ethan urged, hitting Tyler in the square of his back with his palm. Tyler stumbled forward, further into the building. “Up the stairs. Go.” Tyler debated turning back to look at Ethan, or to look back the direction where he came, but at even the hesitation he showed in following Ethan’s command, there were consequences. Ethan hit him, hard, with the butt of his gun, nearly knocking Tyler to his knees. The hit surprised him. Drips of red fell to the floor from the new cut on his forehead. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” Ethan said. Tyler didn’t. He headed to the stairs. 

They went up three floors, all the way to the top. Tyler could feel the wind coming through the hole in the ceiling. There were holes in the floorboards, cracks in the windows. Dust lined every surface. Ethan walked him to the centermost window. 

“Kneel,” he said. Tyler began to wonder if this was an execution. He did as he was told, hands now shaking. Ethan didn’t fail to notice. “Scared?” Tyler didn’t answer. It was the wrong choice. Ethan hit him again, in the same spot as before, and the impact made Tyler’s head spin. “I asked,” Ethan said, raising his voice until he was nearly screaming, standing over Tyler like a god. “ _ARE YOU SCARED?”_

“Yes,” Tyler said, his voice quiet. 

“What was that?” Ethan backed off. Tyler straightened his spine and looked straight out the window.

“I said yes,” he repeated, louder. “I’m scared.” It wasn’t a lie. He had no reason to lie. 

“Good. You deserve to be scared.”

“I thought we were friends, Ethan,” Tyler said, his voice shaking. He didn’t want to die here. He wanted Josh to come save him, like he did that first day, like he did every day. But Josh wasn’t here, and he had to try to save himself this time. He didn’t know if he could.

“You made it pretty clear that you don’t trust me, Tyler.” Ethan was squatting next to him now, gun still pointed at his head. Tyler turned to face him, letting the barrel fall between his eyes. Ethan’s eyes were bright, shining, as though this was the greatest thing ever to happen to him. He was smiling a deranged, toothy smile that was mismatched to his tone of voice. He stared into Tyler’s eyes. “I make you nervous, right?” He sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, which only dragged a line of dirt across his face. “You… you– _god_ you, you don’t even know what you did now, right? _Right?_ Because you can’t _remember_ ,” he mocked a pouty face, “You can’t _remember_ the things you did to me–“

“Ethan, whatever I did, I’m sorr–“

“I’M TALKING!” Ethan screamed, his face nearly touching Tyler’s, his voice muted by the bookshelves into an abrupt, echoless silence. Tyler closed his eyes like a frightened child, like closing his eyes would make Ethan go away. He pinched his hand again, willing this to be a dream, but it stung, again, like last time. He felt like he was going to throw up. “Open your eyes, you little shit,” Ethan said. His tone was one that someone would use to comfort a scared child, but the words didn’t match. 

Tyler opened his eyes. Ethan’s face remained, as it was before, mere inches from his.

“Do you want to know what you did?” Tyler didn’t dare move. Ethan stared at him, his eyes quivering just the slightest. “Well?” After another pause, Tyler nodded. “That’s a yes?” 

“Yes,” Tyler breathed. Ethan smiled. 

“Wonderful.” He stood up quickly. Tyler followed him with his eyes. If there was any chance at escaping this alive, it would come from stalling, from getting Ethan to talk until he could figure out a plan. And, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was curious. He wanted to know what he’d done, who he was before, why Ethan hated him this much. “It all starts in a little house, in a little village, not too far from here,” Ethan said in a singsong voice. “Where you, little Tyler, murdered my beautiful baby brother.” Tyler kept his expression the same. Ethan began pacing, waving one hand around, but kept the gun trained on Tyler. Tyler watched him. “His name was Anthony. We called him _Tito_ , do you remember?” 

“No.”

“Of course you don’t, fucker. Why would you remember him? He only thought you were the greatest person in the world.” Tyler opened his mouth to apologize, but stopped himself. Ethan would probably shoot him for it. “Tito looked up to you, you know. He’d never say it to your face, but _god_ he loved you. Probably more than he loved me.” Ethan trailed off for a moment then, staring at Tyler, studying him. There was some hint of longing in his face, but it was gone as soon as it came. “And then a raider shot him in the chest in that little house.” Ethan wheeled around and walked to Tyler, pressed the gun to his chest, right in the center, between his ribs, just under his collarbones. “Shot him right here.” 

Tyler closed his eyes again. Ethan laughed.

“But he didn't die from that, no, of course he didn’t. He died when you shot him in the head,” the gun was brought back up to Tyler’s forehead, between his eyes. “Right here.” There was a pause. Tyler opened his eyes again to see Ethan staring at him. “Do you know why you killed him, Tyler?” 

“No.”

“Neither do I,” Ethan said, smiling that same terrifying smile. Ezra tried to explain. He said Tito asked you to. He said Tito said he was dead weight, that whatever the raiders would do to him was worse.” Tyler was having trouble following the story now. “I think you killed him because you wanted to, Tyler. I think you killed him because he was already dying, and you wanted to know what it was like to kill someone you loved.”

“I thought I never loved anyone,” Tyler said, remembering their conversation from only a little while ago. It felt like it had been an eternity since then. He remembered Josh. He wondered if someone had found him yet, lying in his own blood, knocked out. He said it quietly, but as soon as the words left his mouth, Ethan whirled on him. 

“You didn’t, you _didn’t,”_ he was closing the space between them, “You never loved anyone, and no one ever loved _you_ ,” he said, now holding Tyler up by the front of his shirt. “Fuck. _Fuck_!” He threw Tyler back down, the floorboards creaking under his weight. Tyler’s heart was beating out of his chest. “You’re such a little _shit,_ you know that? _Fuck!_ ” It only took mere seconds for Ethan to steady his breathing. “Do you know why I’m telling you all this?” Tyler shook his head no. “Go on, guess.” Tyler just stared at him. It was impossible to tell when Tyler was supposed to speak and when he wasn’t. “ _Guess,_ ” Ethan hissed. It seemed now was a time for Tyler to speak. 

“B-because… because you want me to know… to know what I did before I die?” Ethan laughed. It started out soft, slow, and built to a cackle, then to a guffaw, before he suddenly grabbed the back of Tyler’s head by the hair and slammed him forward into the window. The glass cracked under the pressure. 

There was blood crawling down his face from his forehead and nose and he found himself curled up on the floor before he could remember when he had moved into that position. 

“I’m telling you all of this, Tyler,” Ethan said, kneeling over him, putting the gun against Tyler’s forehead once again, “Because I know you’ll forget.” Tyler shivered. “You’ll die just as confused as you’ve lived, and that truly is the greatest hell I could give you.” 

Ethan leaned back, still straddling Tyler’s torso, pinning him down. One hand was clamped to his side by Ethan’s leg. There was blood seeping into Tyler’s eyes, but he didn’t dare move his free arm to wipe it away. Ethan noticed, moving his thumb across Tyler’s eyebrow to catch the red drips. 

“I didn’t intend to leave you like this, you know. I wanted you to die the first time around. But really, this is so much better. Poor, forgetful Tyler, can’t even remember his own name. No, this is much more fun.”

“I’m like this because of you…” Tyler realized out loud. Some irrational part of his brain wondered, if he killed Ethan, would his memory come back? Or would he have nightmares about this as well?

“Of course you are, you idiot. I pushed you off a building. It was fun. I thought you’d died. You were _supposed_ to die.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Tyler said. Ethan laughed at that. Tyler half expected him to hit him again. 

“Don’t worry about that, Tyler. This is so much better. I get to kill you just when you’ve finally found happiness. You and your _Josh_. Disgusting.”

“He’ll kill you.”

“Oh, boo hoo, like I care. I died a long time ago, Tyler, remember? Right when you killed Tito.”

“If what you said is true, then I only killed him because he asked me to!”

“And if Josh asked you to kill _him_ , would you?”

“I–“

“No, you wouldn’t! You murdered my brother, and you never even apologized, because you _wanted_ to kill him, you _needed_ it–“

“I didn’t!”

“How would you know, Tyler? You can’t even remember!”

“I’m not like that!” Ethan threw his head back and laughed, and Tyler took his chance, using his free hand to push the gun away from his forehead. Ethan startled, pulling the trigger, and the bullet went through the floorboards. The silencer was gone, now, and the shot echoed. Tyler’s ears were ringing. He had to fight. Ethan was already reloading. 

He pulled his other hand free and reached up, grabbing Ethan by the shirt and pulling himself up to slam his head into Ethan’s. He could feel Ethan’s nose break under the force of his skull, and he hoped it hurt like a beast. Ears still ringing, he forced Ethan off of him, rolling to the side until he was able to stand up. 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck!”_ Ethan was screaming as Tyler’s hearing was beginning to come back to him. The safety of the gun clicked off, and Tyler dove behind a bookshelf only a split second before the second shot rang out, sending debris flying to his left where the bullet went through wood. Tyler took off running. He headed for the stairs, knowing his best chance was to get out of the library altogether, praying that Josh or Matt or _someone_ was looking for him and heart the gunshots. Hell, he’d even pray for raiders or Shadows in a time like this. 

Throwing the door to the stairs open, he heard a third shot, but he didn’t waste time finding out where it had landed. He launched himself down the flights, hearing Ethan scream obscenities after him. As soon as he heard Ethan enter the stairwell after him, though, he panicked, opening the next door he saw and slipping through it with an attempt at silence. He didn’t close it behind him. He wanted Ethan to think he’d kept going down to the ground floor. A closed door would tip him off. So he waited, hiding along the wall behind the door, to hear Ethan’s footsteps descending the stairs as he chased after him. 

“You’re not leaving here alive, Tyler,” Ethan’s voice echoed down the stairwell, singsong, terrifying. Tyler’s heart threatened to pound out of his chest. He could hear Ethan’s footsteps as he went down the stairs slowly, methodically. “Come on, Ty. Be a good sport.” He was closer now. This was something out of Tyler’s nightmares. His footsteps approached Tyler’s door, and he held his breath. “Come on, shit head…” The footsteps went past slowly, continuing the descent. “Come out and–“ 

There was an abrupt silence. Ethan stopped talking, stopped moving. Tyler wondered, horrified, if he’d made a noise by accident, given away his hiding spot. Then Ethan laughed softly. 

“Do you hear that, Tyler? I think it’s your _boy._ ” Tyler strained to listen, wondering if Ethan was trying to trick him, but now that he was focusing on it, he could hear it. Josh. Calling out. Calling out for _him._ It was soft, muted, but it was there. Tyler looked over toward the windows at the other end of the room. He couldn’t _see_ him, but he was there, calling Tyler’s name. There were other voices, too; he thought he recognized Matt, maybe Lewis, and more. They were looking for him. 

“Why don’t you call back to them, Tyler?” Ethan’s voice called. “Let them know where you are?” Tyler stayed still as a statue. Signaling to Josh where he was would also mean signaling to Ethan, which Ethan obviously understood as well. “What if they just walk right by, Tyler? What if they never know you’re here?” The thought made his heart hurt. What if Josh never even found his body?

He shifted his weight subconsciously, regretting it as soon as he did. The floorboard creaked. There was only a moment of silence before he realized his decision had been made for him. Ethan’s laugh carried through the stairwell, and Tyler pushed off the wall as he heart the footsteps ascending toward him. He sprinted to the window with the largest opening, and he screamed as loud as he could, as loud as his lungs would let him; 

“ _JOSH! THE LIBRARY! I’M IN THE LIBRARY!_ ” There was another gunshot and the glass directly to the right of his head exploded outward, shattering. 

Tyler spun around to see Ethan sprinting toward him, reloading as he went. He heard Josh’s voice calling back to him, faded, distant, but closer than before. Ethan was on top of him in a second, slamming his whole body into Tyler’s and crushing him against the wall next to the window. Blood covered Ethan’s face from his broken nose, making that deranged smile look even more horrifying. They both fell to the floor, Ethan on top of Tyler, his free hand wrapping itself around Tyler’s throat while the other hand clicked back the safety on the gun. 

“ _NO!_ ” Tyler screamed, near involuntarily, his voice cracking at the pressure on his windpipe. He managed to grab Ethan’s wrist at the last second and again, Ethan’s bullet missed Tyler, penetrating the ground to his right; this time, though, the floor wasn’t as sturdy. 

“ _Tyler!”_ He heard Josh scream his name as the hardwood gave way, cracking under Tyler and Ethan’s weight, and they went straight through it. Ethan clutched onto Tyler’s shirt like he was a shield. They went through the wood on the next floor, too, and the next, and the next. Tyler didn’t know how many floors down they went, but when they hit concrete, it didn’t matter. Tyler’s head cracked against the solid stone, and the world was an abyss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehehEHEHHEHEHEE IM SORRY DON"T HURT ME  
> yes I know its been months since an update, I know, I KNOW, i missed this story as much as you did  
> how cool is it though, that this story centered so heavily on East long before the new album incorporated it?? Hot damn.
> 
> Anyway. Two more chapters. I AM going to finish this, I swear to god. 
> 
> Thank you to all of those who've stuck with me on this. I truly appreciate it.


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